A Self Called Nowhere
by Noacat
Summary: SessKag RATED FOR MILD SEXUAL CONTENT AND VIOLENCE. Six years after leaving the feudal era, Kagome contemplates her choices. She looks to the stars for answers and finding nothing, looks inward. CH 15 NEW!
1. See the Constellation

_I lay my head on the railroad track  
Stare at the sky all painted up  
Your train is gone, won't be coming back_

_...Can you hear what I see in the sky?_

_--They Might Be Giants_

The tiles on the ceiling of the museum waiting room made random patterns behind her eyes. She stared and stared, contemplating her life's choices because she honestly had nothing better to do at this moment. Waiting had never been her forte. Not to say she wasn't patient, she'd just never much enjoyed extended periods of boredom. She cursed herself for not bringing something along with her to read. This was what she got for being so short sighted. Now she had to play connect the dots with ceiling tile which was the better of her few options. She certainly didn't want to strike up a conversation with the receptionist, because that was just sad. Though there were a few magazines she could pick up and read, she wasn't about to lower herself to do so. The selection was dreadfully lacking in the interest department. One two year old copy of National Geographic and a handful of museum published mini-mags were not Kagome's idea of a thrilling read. Not that staring at the ceiling was the most entertaining thing in the world, still, any port in a storm.

Of course, staring at the ceiling created its own problems. The foremost of which was her incessant need to reflect on her past as her eyes roved around connecting the lines in the pitted ceiling tile. She was making constellations from the holes in an attempt to abstain from thinking and it wasn't working. Her eyes darted to and fro, happily connecting several holes to create an actual constellation. Canis Major, one of the constellation Orion's hunting dogs. Fascinating. Fascinating that she'd happen to fashion Canis Major out of several holes in the ceiling of the museum she was interviewing for. What a great way to relax herself before meeting her future employer. By thinking of things that were better left swept under the rug. No, no, they were better left buried in a ten foot hole in a lead lined box with concrete poured on top of it. Then she had to go and dig them up, idiot that she was.

Kagome sighed heavily, and turned away from the fascinating aggravation she found in the ceiling. Not that the floor would be any better.

It had started out so innocently. The chain of events that led her from the past to the now had all started with simple, innocent desire. It was her vast care for everyone that had gotten her into this mess. Her stupid, kindhearted nature that called for her to try and heal every wound she came upon. She'd been warned by many that this kind of selfless selfishness would get her into trouble. That trying to solve everyone else's problems before dealing with her own would eventually lead her into a situation that she couldn't handle but she didn't listen. Didn't pay heed. She had tried to mend a broken heart with the simple desire of easing another person's pain. From this desire, another blossomed and inevitably one thing led to another. The figurative shit eventually hit the metaphorical fan, leaving all parties stinky and uncomfortable. Of course, it all had happened at the worst possible moment as well. When all was said and done, she'd been left alone and broken, her own heart rent asunder.

But she was getting ahead of herself.

Kagome blamed the somber quiet of this office. It was when everything was silent that she began to think like this. When there was nothing to distract her. Without distracting things like work, or work, she'd think and thinking led to self-reflection and self-reflection led to these pointless bouts of mental accounting. Where she'd tally the numbers and run the equation one more time to see where exactly she went wrong in the cautionary tale that was her life. No matter how hard she tried, nothing added up. Kagome sighed again. She never was any good at math.

Maybe she should write one of those self-help manuals of how not to get into crappy relationships. Then again, if one were buying such a manual...She left the thought hanging as she fidgeted in the uncomfortable waiting room chair. Why was it that all waiting rooms have the same kind of chairs? With stiff backs and high arm rests that seemed to be made to give you a backache. She wondered if it were a conspiracy, if somewhere there were chair-makers that schemed behind the scenes to permanently damage her back. It was a demonic plot. Just like the silence in this room. All set upon her to make her think about things that were best left...away...from her.

Maybe it was the museum itself. Seeing so many relics of days long past, she couldn't help but reminiscence a bit. This place was a shrine to the past, and in many ways, she felt as if she belonged here. A relic of past, of things unchangeable.

"It had started out so innocently..." She thought again, with only a tiny bit of melodramatic passion.

She'd never meant to hurt anyone. In fact, all that she'd ever wanted was to take away pain. The problem she'd caused was quite inadvertent. She hadn't meant for it to turn out this way, at all. But it had. She'd seen another person in pain, okay, not a person but a demon. In her eyes, it had always been the same. The blood in your veins didn't matter. Every living being was deserving of comfort and respect, regardless of the circumstances of their birth. All she had done was reach out and at first, nothing was wrong with that. It had all gone according to what little plan she had. She'd reached out to comfort a broken heart. That's all she'd done but then...things abruptly changed and her normal caring and healing plan went dreadfully awry. It was frustrating to her, even now, because most of the time this tactic had worked out just fine. With the exception of that one horrible incident.

She shook her head and made a little grunting sound, "Lying to yourself again, Kagome..." She mumbled as she toed the floor with a boot.

The museum secretary heard her half-mumbled reprimand to herself and looked up, gazing at her as if she were quite strange. It wasn't the first time she'd been given that look since she'd come back from the feudal era. She'd gone down that well a normal teenage girl and when she'd come back at the end of the tour, she was a rather strange young adult. Kagome ignored the woman, who continued to stare at her through lowered glasses as she was whispering on the phone. No doubt telling whoever was on the other line about the weird young woman waiting in the front office. Kagome shrugged it off, mentally berating the idiocy of other people's children.

It had been six and a half years since she'd left the feudal era behind. When she'd finally left, she was nineteen. Her entire high school career had been frittered away and she was left with basically nothing. She'd scratched her way out of that well, literally as well as metaphorically. The last six and a half years she'd spent rebuilding a life left behind. Her future in the modern era had been nearly forgotten and it had been left to gather a voluminous pile of dust and filth. She was forced to pick it back up, dust it off and start all over again. It had been anything but easy and she had that one lovely instant of kindness gone wrong to blame for everything.

Ah, but she was getting ahead of herself...again.

She closed her eyes and behind them she could clearly envision the night that started everything. The first domino in the chain and with a flick of a mental finger, she pushed and remembered.

It had been another clear night in the feudal era. The moon was waning, diminishing into just a tiny silver sliver, a gloriously glowing crescent. She'd been noting the waxing and waning of the moon as Kaede had instructed her. The older priestess had taken Kagome under her wing and had taught her a few spells here and there, as well as some potion work. She'd cited the need for every priestess to know the cycles of the moon, as sometimes it would influence the success of a given enchantment. Kagome had always thought of it as supernatural bupkis but who was she to question thousands of years of wisdom? She'd also believed that demons weren't real, but she was sure wrong about that one.

So, she'd been watching the night sky, reciting Kaede's little rhyme about the moon to see if were waning or waxing. She'd asked her because they were trying to brew a particular healing potion and...well...really now was a good time for her to learn such things. They'd had a recent and rather nasty fight with Naraku, in which they were all very lucky to be living. Inuyasha had given them all two weeks off as his sword needed to be sharpened and repaired, which necessitated a trip to Totosai's. Sango had also required repairs on her Hiraikotsu, so she'd gone home. That left Miroku, Shippou and herself to cool their heels in the village for a bit. It was a welcome respite from the non-stop activity of shard hunting. Kagome could have gone home. She could have entered the well and spent those two weeks studying and giggling with her friends. Ah, but that would make all sorts of sense. That would be the appropriate action of a responsible person with half a brain. If there was anything Kagome could say about herself, it was that she had a blatant lack of common sense. There were times she appreciated her inborn capriciousness because being lighthearted and carefree could be fun.

But life isn't always sunshine and roses, and even with all the suffering she'd encountered, she'd yet to have that really sink in. For her, the feudal era was a vacation. At the time, she hadn't seen how obscenely selfish she'd been. She'd thought she was helping people but what she was really doing was avoiding her own problems and replacing them with everyone else's. Back then, she thought she was doing so much good. She hadn't realized how foolish she'd been until it was too late. If she'd had any sense at all, she'd have gone back through that well and never come back. But she didn't. She was too wrapped up in the romance of the era and the existential angst of being in love and out of love all at once. Stupid, foolish Kagome.

She'd been gazing at the moon, recounting that silly rhyme.

_Incomplete to the West_

_The moon will disappear and hide in its nest_

_Incomplete to the East_

_Soon it's as big as a festival feast_

Truthfully, she really wasn't paying as much attention to the study portion of her gazing as she was absorbed in counting the stars. The moon was a thin crescent. She'd been watching it from a hillock a fair distance from Kaede's hut. With the benefit of hindsight, she should have just stayed inside that night but she was a silly girl. She had run out the minute Kaede had told her that stupid rhyme because she wanted to test it. Really, it was an excuse. She just wanted a moment to herself. Miroku had been unpleasantly grabby as of late, though it was terribly halfhearted. He missed Sango more than he'd liked to admit. Of the two of them, Kagome had missed her more because Sango had literally taken the pressure off her own behind ever since she'd joined the group. Shippou had also been a bit clingy. Being in a near death situation with his last living parental figure did that to a kid. She didn't blame either of them but she did need a moment just for her. Just a small space of time for her own thoughts and feelings to even out and she chose that particular night. That one moment in time of all the moments in time she could have chosen. If this were a story, she'd have begun it with what broke that incomplete vision of silent serenity.

Her attention on the moon waned and she'd turned her gaze to the stars, lazily identifying a constellation or two, noting the position of Canis Major and its brother, Canis Minor. They were hard to find this time of year. It was early March, and the best time to view either constellation was in February. Kagome thanked the gods for the early spring because star gazing was so much easier in the feudal era. If only she'd been here a bit earlier, she'd have been able to see both constellations quite clearly. Alas, there was still snow in February and hence, no shard hunting. But the snow soon cleared and the ground was visible again, if a bit frozen. It was still cold but not uncomfortably so. She'd found a rather dry rock for a perch and she'd brought one of her best down jackets, so she was kept very warm. Hugging herself, she sighed deeply, absently noting the condensation of her own breath as it left her mouth. Deep feelings of peace surrounded her and in the moment, she wished for someone to share it with. That was when she heard the shuffling footsteps of another traveler, alone on the dusty road behind her. She turned her head, a half smile on her lips for whoever it was. In those days, she was always smiling for anyone and everyone. She'd thought it was one of her friends. Her smile was for them, for Miroku or Shippou. For Kaede or Sango. Or for Inuyasha...who she'd absurdly hoped it had been.

But it wasn't one of her friends.

The shuffling figure that met her gaze that night could be considered an enemy and sometimes, a reluctant ally. It was Sesshoumaru. Inuyasha's older brother. "Half-brother", she inwardly corrected herself, staring in abject fascination at the sight that greeted her. Her normal mental picture of him had always included the words cool and collected. She'd never seen him in anything less than an absolutely pristine condition. Full of his natural arrogance that made him live up to his name, the killing perfection. The creature that limped into the village that night was anything but perfect, though quite capable of killing. He was in short...a mess. His clothes were tattered and bloodstained, his normally pin straight hair was wind blown and wild. And his eyes. His eyes were blood red instead of cool gold. It was this detail that had held her attention for the longest time. She'd stared at him, debating why his eyes were red. Inuyasha's eyes changed like that in his demon form, as did Sesshoumaru's. But Inuyasha didn't have control of his demon blood, Sesshoumaru did. So why were his eyes red? What had put him in such a state?

Then she noticed the bloodied bundle of humanity cradled in his arm. She identified the bundle as Rin, the little girl that followed him. His ward they'd only just recently seen with him. Just a few days before their battle with Naraku and as soon as she thought that, her breath caught in her throat. What had happened? Kagome felt her eyes tearing up but she didn't say a word or make a move. When Inuyasha was like this she'd spare little thought on whether or not to approach him. Intrinsically, she knew that he wouldn't hurt her. He would fight his black blood the minute she came into view because Inuyasha didn't want to hurt her. She knew how to handle him. What to do to ensure her own safety but Sesshoumaru, well...that was a whole other matter. Approaching a demon of his caliber in an uncontrolled state was stupid on a suicidal level. Kagome didn't currently feel like dying, so she held her breath and waited for him to make the first move. The realization that she'd brought no weaponry wasn't a welcome one but if he wanted to attack her, there were no amount of arrows in the world that'd stop him.

She sat as still as she could, willing herself to become apart of the scenery. Willing herself to be as unmovable as the rock beneath her. Once she was a rock, then maybe he'd just ignore her like he would a rock. It made little sense, even in her own head but it was her idea and she would run with it till she tripped. He continued to move forward, every step seemed difficult for him. His progress was staggering at best and he looked the part of a drunk, but for all the open wounds. She was amazed, not only because he was so grievously wounded and still walking, but because he hadn't healed himself. He was daiyoukai. A greater demon and as such there wasn't much in this world that could harm him so badly but apparently, something did.

He stopped suddenly and sniffed the air, his red eyes locking onto her with an eerie kind of precision that frightened her bone deep. Haltingly, he stumbled forward until he reached her little hillock. The daiyoukai towered over her, still an imposing presence despite his current lack of mental clarity. He said nothing for several very long and uncomfortable moments. Time spread thin and Kagome wondered when the world might start again. She could say with absolute certainty that those were the most terrifying moments of her life. Considering the kind of danger she normally found herself in that was saying a lot.

His knees suddenly buckled and he nearly collapsed in front of her. At the last moment, he caught himself, though his knees still hit the ground with an uncomfortable sounding crunch. He sat prostrate in front of her, bloodied and quite obviously broken. There was something endlessly sad about his visage that night. She'd almost call it pathetic but that would be degrading the memory. Despite all the trouble that night started, she couldn't bring herself to sully it. She wanted to remember the one time she'd seen him so unguarded. In the moment, he'd looked like a newly broken horse, still tinged with wild desire, but without the will to rebel against the choke of its harness, silently accepting its stolen freedom. Whoever had done this to him...what they'd done was unforgivable. This was all wrong. He was the Lord of the West, he shouldn't be at her feet, groveling like some common dog. Not that she felt she should be doing the groveling, but...he was proud, if nothing else and his pride and honor was something she'd always vaguely respected about him. Seeing him brought so low as to lose complete control of his own blood, it was wrong and weird. Like the universe had been upended. Up was now down. Dogs were living with cats in complete harmony, and it left her feeling confused and downright terrified.

She blinked wildly as if to confirm or deny what she was seeing. It had been a desperate hope on her part that this was all a dream or perhaps a very ridiculous nightmare. Even a rather nice hallucination brought on by hypothermia would do but it was clearly quite real.

Sesshoumaru was on his knees before her, for what reasons...for what purpose was beyond her. His breathing was harsh and labored; the curling tendrils of it condensed and spiraled upward. It eventually mingled with her own and she was preposterously reminded of a grammar school science lesson. _Heat rises_. It was an absent thought and to this day she wasn't sure why her mind chose that moment to dredge it up. She was broke out of this reverie by Sesshoumaru's voice which was uncharacteristically soft and devoid of all harsh arrogance.

"Priestess..." he said, the word coming out a bit cracked as if it were hard to say.

So unlike the smooth and confident tones she was used to hearing from him and it frightened her deeply. He looked up at her with eyes still burning red. They begged her for something, they spoke for him saying all the things his pride wouldn't let him. _Please, help her_...those eyes pleaded with heartbreaking intensity. Kagome hesitated, finding the will to keep her eyes locked with his to make absolutely sure she saw what she thought she did. There was no lie in his eyes, only the dull agony of the heart. Reluctantly, she came closer to him. She could no longer play the part of a statue, not when she saw such raw pain in the eyes of a creature she'd so often thought of as unfeeling. It was a horrible thing to find out you were wrong about something, but in this instance, the feeling was abhorrently acute. She slipped off the rock and sat down quietly in front of him, so that they were on the same level.

Without a word, he carefully set down the little girl he'd been carrying, transferring her to Kagome's arms with his normal grace, despite his numerous injuries. Kagome could already fell the tears gathering at the edge of her eyes and they threatened to fall and fall heavily. It was by will alone that she kept them away, even when she realized how light the little girl was. She barely weighed anything and she was so limp in her arms. It was the first of many worrisome signs in the road. As far as she could deduce, he'd been attacked and the girl had been caught in the crossfire. He'd traveled all this way to find her, the only priestess he knew and trusted enough to handle his ward. She'd have been flattered in any other circumstance but this. This task he brought to her was probably beyond her skill but arguing the point with a demon who wasn't in control of his faculties would do little good.

Kagome took a deep, calming breath and gently laid the girl on the grass. Slowly, she pulled off the knitted gloves she wore on her hands and stuffed them in her pockets. She then proceeded to examine the little girl, moving the torn bits of fabric aside to assess the damage. She was injured badly; her small body was a mass of cuts and abrasions. The worst was a large gash gouged into her chest. It ran from her collar bone to just past her sixth rib and it was very deep. Blood no longer oozed from it but she could tell at one time it had. Most of it was now congealed around the wound itself, turned moist and sticky by the cold. She spared at glance to regard Sesshoumaru, noting that more than half the blood staining the pristine white of his haori was the girl's.

Kagome looked away, gazing back down at Rin's face. She was so still, so silent. Too silent. She should be moaning, making sounds of discomfort but there was nothing. She could have just passed out, which wouldn't be a good sign but it would explain things. Carefully, she pushed Rin's bangs back, stroking her forehead gently before she opened the little girl's eyelid with a thumb. Her irises had rolled back up into her head so far that not even a speck of brown was visible. She was unconscious or worse. Kagome shook her head, not wanting to think that way just yet. She couldn't hear the girl breathing. Her small chest didn't show the slightest movement which made Kagome worry all the more. With a chest wound as bad as that, she should be able to hear the girl's breathing. More correctly, she should be able to hear the girl struggling for breath. It'd be an awful gurgling sound that she didn't really want to hear coming from Rin, of all people. At the same time, if she heard that sound it'd be a small sign of life, and that would be good. It'd mean she'd have half a chance but to hear nothing...was not good. Delicately, she placed her hand over the girl's nose, hoping to feel air coming through but there was nothing.

"_Idiot_." She berated herself mentally, "_If she were breathing, you'd be able to see it_..."

She'd forgotten about the cold. Kagome licked her lips and fought her rising fear. It boiled in her stomach with every move she made. Things didn't look good and with every preliminary ministration, she began to realize the futility of the whole affair. Stroking the girl's cheek, she tried hard to hold back the waiting tears. There was still a chance...she kept repeating that to herself even though she knew it was a lie. She pressed two trembling fingers to the girl's neck and searched for a pulse. She searched and she found nothing.

"_No_." She whispered deep inside herself, denying the undeniable.

Her hands were numb from the cold; she just wasn't able to feel it, that's all. She held her hands up to her mouth and blew on them, rubbing them together to stimulate blood flow back into them. Kagome tried again, this time taking the reading from Rin's wrist. She'd never been good at finding a pulse at the neck. Carefully, she pressed a thumb to the thin skin on Rin's wrist and held it there for several minutes. When the thumb didn't work, she switched to using two fingers. She moved her fingers up and down the girl's forearm, searching desperately for some sign that her heart was beating. But there was nothing. She felt the first of her tears as they fell from underneath bowed lashes. They hit her hand as she pressed Rin's wrist a bit harder. She was willing there to be a heartbeat but nothing was there, nothing ever would be. If the little girl was still alive, she'd have left a bruise. But she wasn't alive and the dead don't bruise.

Kagome felt steely cold subsume every limb from head to toe. The girl was dead. The flowers of the world could rest easy this night. There'd be no one to enjoy their beauty again. She looked down at the lifeless little body in the grass and gently, she picked her up and held her tight. Gods, she was so small. Her cheeks were too pale, her lips had gone blue. It hadn't been long, an hour maybe two. Rigor Mortis hadn't set in yet but it would. What kind of world was this that one sweet little girl could die so horribly? Should she blame the guardian or the bastard who attacked her? Maybe it was neither. Mostly, it didn't matter.

Rin was dead and her protector had brought her to the only help he could think of. The only human he'd trust with her because he knew the girl needed help that only her own kind could give. But she couldn't help her. The girl was dead and there was nothing she could do. Had this been her own time and if he'd been a bit faster, maybe, just maybe. Even then, her recovery would have been touch and go. What should she tell him? How to break the news? The situation wouldn't have been any easier had the girl's human father sat in front of her. She wasn't faced with a human; she was faced with a demon, a demon that wasn't in control at the moment. Kagome wasn't sure how he'd react and was more than just a little frightened. He'd come for help and she'd tried, but would that matter to him in the state he was in? Any words she tried to form evaporated before they even left her throat. What could she say that he'd accept?

She didn't want to die but the truth couldn't be avoided.

Looking down at the little girl, Kagome lost it. She held her tiny hand, so absurdly fragile in comparison with her own. Her hands had always been small, so much so that her friends frequently teased her about it. _You have the hands of a five year old, Kagome_. Yet, when she looked at the hand in her palm, she couldn't help but feel how large and clumsy she was. Her hands, Rin's hands were so cold. She held the girl's hands as if she were still alive before gathering the courage to speak. With a shaky sigh, she lifted her gaze. Any tears she hoped to prevent had already fallen and it seemed they might never stop. The night had gone eerily silent, as if the entire world had stopped to regard this one moment in time. Her tears flooded her thoughts and poured down her face as her gaze locked with his.

"I-I...I'm...I..." She began, her lips trembling so hard she found it hard to speak, "I-I'm sah-sah-sorry...She's..S-she's gone...I can't help her..." Kagome whispered, her voice trailing off into the darkness.

If it were possible, his eyes became duller than before. A haze of some unreadable emotion clouded them as he stood shakily. Kagome watched with languid horror, not knowing what this action might portend. The girl had meant more to him than he'd liked to admit. Somehow, she'd wormed her way into his world. The one bright, innocent light in a life mired in now perpetual dark. He drew the one of the swords hanging at his hip. Kagome didn't have an idea of which one he was drawing. She'd never been able to tell the difference, all she saw was the motion towards the weapon. Her eyes widened and she cringed, waiting for a blow that never came. She felt as the sword swung against the air above her head. He'd missed. She cautiously opened one eye and stared up at the demon that stood over her. His blood red eyes narrowed and he swiped again. She let out a little squeak until it registered that he was trying to use Tenseiga, the healing sword. He was trying to bring the girl back and she gasped audibly at the realization. She looked down, hope springing in her heart as the tears she shed stilled. There was a chance...and she waited with baited breath. Nothing. He swiped again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. Again and again and again. Still nothing.

The proud daiyoukai above her paused, swiping the sword one last time and when nothing happened he began to shake with palpable rage. The sword he held behind him was flung swiftly aside with a startling amount of viciousness. It embedded itself in a nearby tree with a neat tang. Kagome followed the motion, staring at the sword sticking out of the tree for a moment before turning back to Sesshoumaru. He stood there and trembled as his anger cooled. Soon, he was still as a statue again and she wasn't quite sure which reaction she feared more. Minutes passed and he stood there still, breathing in and out with angrily labored gasps. Without warning, he fell to his knees for the second time in one night, a strange keening sound coming from his throat. It rose in volume slowly, like the distant rumble of a coming avalanche. That strangled sound became an inhuman howl of pure rage and fatal grief. It shook the foundation of the earth, letting the whole world know of the daiyoukai's loss as he threw his head back to gaze at the moon. His blood red eyes stared numbly at the sky and he blinked languorously, letting the howl in his throat taper off to nothing.

The sudden quiet alarmed Kagome. With one arm still around the little girl's body, she uncovered her ears and looked over at Sesshoumaru's still form. He was a tragic statue silhouetted in burnished moonlight. She realized then that she'd witnessed the death of something beautiful. That howl was like the dying light of a flaming phoenix, so bright and yet so sorrowful. The sound had woken the village. She could hear the dim sounds of them searching for the source of that howl. But all she could focus on was Sesshoumaru and what he might do. Right now he was still, immobile, but he could be up in moments and after what had happened, she wasn't sure what he'd do.

"Kagome?" Miroku asked, his fluid voice skimming the surface of the night with its usual softness.

She turned her tearful gaze on him, her eyes pleading with him to stay still and silent. The effort was unnecessary because shortly after Miroku showed up, the daiyoukai passed out from his own injuries and the inescapable cloud of grief that tore his heart to pieces. There was a pregnant pause where neither human was quite sure what to do. Then Kagome remembered the little girl in her arms.

"Miroku...S-suh-something terrible huh-has happened..." She stuttered, tears overflowing.

"That it has." He replied quietly, approaching the girl with a steady gait despite the sinking feeling in his heart.

The monk knelt next to the trembling teenager and held her close until the rest of the villagers caught up with him. He let her cry quietly into his shoulder. As she wept, she couldn't help but envy his eternal calm. It wasn't the stoic cold that someone like Sesshoumaru exhibited. Miroku's calm was one that was borne of great wisdom. What she didn't understand at the time that with great wisdom comes great suffering, and that was the reason the monk could be so calm. Because he had seen such things many times over, and had accepted death as an inevitability of life.

Kagome didn't understand this at the time. All she could do was wail like the child she was, wishing for all the world that there was a way, any way to bring the little girl back. It wasn't fair.

"She's in a better place, Kagome." He whispered to her softly as her sobs died down.

Kagome nodded numbly, resting her head on his shoulder as she stared emptily into space. Eventually the villagers had found Miroku and Kagome, as well as the unconscious daiyoukai. The monk immediately took charge of the situation, as no one else was in the position to. He ordered several men to take Sesshoumaru to Kaede's hut. There were objections to this particular plan but no one was about to disagree with him once his order was given. He was a monk and they were but simple villagers. Miroku then helped Kagome to her feet, grabbing her by an elbow and she stood. Gently, he took Rin's battered body from her arms, giving her over to one of the village women to prepare for burial. Another woman was ordered to stay with Shippou and keep him from knowing what had happened, at least until he could explain things. This was something the little kit didn't need to see, especially after the battle they'd had with Naraku. Kagome was also led away by an older village woman, whose name she'd forgotten. The events that had happened directly after her initial meeting with Sesshoumaru were a blur. She remembered the older woman had been very kind. At the time, she'd barely registered the almost motherly way she'd been treated that night. The woman had seen to it that she had a hot bath, a rarity in these times. She'd also provided a change of clothes for Kagome. Her clothes she wore that night had been burned, too full of memories and blood to be kept. The old woman had given Kagome a sleeping potion that night, by order of Kaede.

While Kagome slept, Miroku saw to it that Rin's body was prepared for her funeral. He saw to it that she was cleaned and properly dressed. Made sure that all the correct rituals were observed and all the right sutras were read. The little girl had no real relatives. He had questioned Kagome briefly about what had happened and he inferred that Sesshoumaru seemed to be her caretaker. However, he was hardly in a state to perform the normal duties as next of kin. It was traditional for someone to stay awake with the deceased until the day of burial. So, Miroku dutifully took this task as his own.

Death didn't bother him normally. It was apart of life, the endless cycle that had turned since the earth began. He'd officiated many funerals in his short life, too many actually. Death was always a devastating event, no matter the age but he'd always felt a bit better when it was an adult he was burying. An adult had lived their life; they'd experienced much of what it had to offer. They'd seen more than one season, but a child hadn't. When a child died, it was like they hadn't lived at all. They'd only just begun and to have it ripped away before they could even experience it was beyond tragic. It was dreadfully unfair, and he'd found it hard to keep his normal cool in such a situation. He took a long calming breath before beginning his meditations once more. It would be a very long night.

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Well. Here's a little short story. Only gonna be around four chapters. Mostly done because I don't want my few and relatively new Inuyasha based reviewers to get mad at me. See, I'm gonna have La Vie go on hiatus for about a month so I can update my other stories. Tranquility needs to be finished, so I'll be focusing on that but I'll also be working on updates for In the Eye and of course, my personal favorite bowl of ansty goodness, Purgatory.

So this little ficlet is my way of saying...sorry for the wait. I'm gonna try to finish it as fast as I can. So everyone...bear with me.

Anyhoot. I love you all. Thanks bunches and loads for the support, really it means a lot! Oh, and sorry about killing Rin off. I await the doom of fruit pelty...go on, throw 'em. I know you want to...

Ciao,

Noa


	2. I Hope That I Get Old Before I Die

_Sometimes I feel like being wispy_

_And once in awhile I feel like being dry_

_But we're doomed and we're drowned by this feeling we surround_

_So I hope that I get old before I die_

_--They Might Be Giants_

The next morning, the village woke to almost deafening silence. There had been great discussion as to how to proceed. With no relatives, a traditional funeral almost seemed inappropriate, yet they couldn't disrespect the dead lest they upset the little girl's spirit. It was decided that a small wake would be held in the afternoon and then the funeral proper would take place. Since there were no relatives to receive her ashes after all was said and done, a special alter would be set up in the temple proper for the child. This would honor the spirit of the young girl, so that her soul could be at peace.

While the preparations were being made, Kagome helped Kaede tend to Sesshoumaru. The daiyoukai's wounds were small and quite numerous, and in normal circumstances would have caused him little actual pain. In fact, such minor injuries should have already healed. It turned out to be a bit of mystery that was quickly solved.

If Kaede had to pinpoint the first of his injuries, it'd would be the dart she'd found imbedded in his back. Upon examination, the dart was laced with Kindoku, a poison that was made by demons to use against their own kind. The poison was made from the rare Kusui mushroom, which only grew in a few forests that were still largely demon enchanted. For a youkai or even a hanyou, obtaining such a mushroom would be easy.

Kindoku was an age old weapon that was primarily used by youkai assassins, though weaker demons were known to use it when facing a daiyoukai as an enemy, as the poison gave them a distinct advantage. Sesshoumaru was in one of the late stages of Kindoku poisoning and it wouldn't have taken much effort to kill him. He was very weak, and in this state, even a human could kill him with little trouble. This was the power of Kindoku. It inhibits a demon's natural ability to heal, siphoning off the demon's own aura to aide in this suppression.

The larger the demonic aura, the more effective the poison becomes. This cycle continues until the demon's own black blood rises to its defense, rendering the host weakened and out of control. At this point, the infected demon would be caught in a perpetual state of bloodlust. It would be too blinded by instinct to understand what was happening to it as it continued to feed the poison infecting its blood. The eventual outcome would be death, but it would be slow and tortuous. It would turn a powerful and calculating enemy like Sesshoumaru into nothing better than a wild animal. The daiyoukai was on death's door, and it would only take a small push to send him over but someone had obviously made a mistake...or perhaps they arrogantly assumed that there would be no one willing to help the injured Lord of the West.

Fate had been kind to Sesshoumaru. Inuyasha was away, and though she didn't like the idea of helping someone who wanted her friend dead, she couldn't turn a blind eye to someone in pain. Kaede and Miroku felt differently about this, but they'd help him because of her. Why they helped didn't matter. That they helped did. Perhaps it was foolish. Sesshoumaru hated humans, or so he said, but the sorrow she saw in his eyes as he held his ward in his arm was unmistakable. Sesshoumaru had cared for that child. It showed a change on his part, or perhaps a layer in his character that no one had seen before. Maybe it was something he, himself, didn't even see. Whatever it was, Kagome could see that Sesshoumaru might not be that bad. He was an enemy of Naraku, which made him, in a way, an ally. And they could use all the allies they could get.

The real trouble was getting him back on his feet. There was an antidote for Kindoku, but it wasn't any easier to obtain for humans than the poison itself. The cure was known as Gyosei, it was an herbal tea brewed from the root of a rare mountain flower. Kaede and Kagome had talked about it at length and their only hope was that perhaps Jinenji possessed either the root itself or the prepared tea. At the very least he could direct them to where to get it. The only snag in that plan was they'd have to wait another two days for Sango to return with Kilala, as Jinenji's farm was too far away for them to walk to it. Until then, they'd have to allow Sesshoumaru to rest. Keeping him quiet and contained was a problem, as in he was practically feral and resisting every attempt to heal him. They'd been constantly burning some of Sango's special incense to keep him unconscious. It would work for the time being, but not in the long term. The village bell had rung and it interrupted her thoughts. It had signaled the start of the wake. Kaede had stayed with Sesshoumaru while Kagome attended with Shippou.

Kagome didn't much like to think on that part of the day. Attending a funeral was bad, but a funeral for a child, one that she knew, was worse. It was as nice as it could be, considering the circumstances. Both Miroku and Kagome thought it'd be a small affair, as none of the other villagers knew the girl.

But in a small village, word gets around. Most of the village knew about the little girl and how she'd come to their village. They knew of Sesshoumaru's reputation as well, and knowing he brought this small human child to their village for help was seen as some kind of uncommon blessing. His feelings about humans were well known and this incident was seen as a wonderful, if tragic reversal. It was a rare thing to find a demon that tried to help a human. Especially a daiyoukai like Sesshoumaru, because they viewed humans as mere ants. Yet this one cared about a little girl and had come to their village for help. An atypical occurrence like this could not be ignored; this was a sign from the gods themselves. What they did now would determine the future of their town.

It was a gamble, but if they did well the youkai lord could well become the village's patron protector. Already, they had his notorious younger brother's name attached to the village. It kept the smaller youkai away but it did not deter the more determined, larger demons from attacking. If Sesshoumaru's name was also associated with the village, only the most foolhardy would dare attack them.

The entire village turned out to show their respect for the little girl who had captured a youkai's heart. At the time, she didn't quite understand what a precarious position the village had put itself in allowing Sesshoumaru to stay. In the state he was in, it was hard for him to recognize friend from foe. There was nothing but instinct. The village people knew this, and so they honored the memory of the little girl. Because once the youkai was conscious again, he would need to know that they'd meant the little girl no harm. It was one of many precautionary measures.

After the wake, Kagome had decided to go home to the modern era for the night. She'd spend some time with her family and gather some supplies. They were nearly out of bandages and antiseptic and if she were to get Sesshoumaru better, they'd need a lot more than they had right now. Plus, she was planning on picking up some tranquilizers to help keep him calm. It was kind of wrong but she was planning on using some old Diazepam their vet had given them for Buyo when he broke his leg awhile back. There was a voice in the back of her head that told her that wasn't a bright idea. It wasn't but it was really all she could think of. She could get her hands on some over the counter sleeping pills, but they have to find a way to force Sesshoumaru to swallow them. No one liked that idea in the least. The Diazepam had to be injected, so in the end it'd be easier. He was already sort of quiet thanks to the incense, this would make him quieter. And the quieter he was, the better...because he had to get better in two weeks or less. If he took longer because he fought too much, Inuyasha would return with him still there and then all hell would break loose.

Why? Why did she have to be so bloody awful helpful? Miroku had taken her aside again that evening just before she left for home. Why hadn't she listened to him? Her eyes dulled, drifting along the endless stream of memory. She was lost, pulled farther down river by the current, losing track of time as she remembered the chilly afternoon and the quiet talk she had with the monk. As she sat in the waiting room, she could almost see him right there, looking just as he had been that day. The image was out of place in the very modern room and she blinked, not sure if it was real or just another hallucination. She'd almost pulled back from the remembrance, but it quickly drew her back in. When she blinked this time, it seemed as if the world redrew itself around her memory. There was no more waiting room. There was only the forest and the well she and her friend leaned up against as they enjoyed the companionable silence.

Miroku broke the quiet, intoning in his most serious voice, "Kagome, there are things we need to discuss." He paused and she waited and waited and waited, while he gathered his thoughts, "You have a kind heart...and it does you great service..."

"...But?..."

"I am concerned by our current course of action. The condition the daiyoukai is in right now makes him a danger to himself and others."

"What are you saying, exactly?"

He looked at her then, his dark eyes searching her out. Measuring her as he spoke softly, but commandingly, "What I'm saying is...as badly as I feel over what happened to him and his ward, I don't think it's wise to continue to allow him to stay in the village. No matter his condition, Sesshoumaru is and will always be dangerous."

She gave him a curt, tight lipped reply, "Then what _do_ you suggest?"

He looked away from her, staring at the sun rather than in her eyes. It wasn't easy for him to say those things, much less think them, but it had to be done. They had to think of the village first but still, it felt so wrong. So callous. He knew he wouldn't win this argument, not with Kagome. She was the champion of lost causes, and no doubt would fight tooth and nail to keep the daiyoukai right where he was. And yet...

"We can't just leave him..."

The sharp, pointed reply tore into his heart and he took a deep breath before speaking again.

"I'm not suggesting we abandon him." Miroku paused and closed his eyes before forging ahead, "I am suggesting...that we do the merciful thing."

She stared at him, long and hard. Part of her knew exactly what he meant and the other half couldn't believe what she heard. Both of sides were outraged and wanted nothing more than to wring the monk's neck breathless.

"...And what would that be?"

Gathering his courage, he turned and looked at her levelly, "We are dealing with a demon in great pain, a _full_ demon not in control of his own blood which makes him very, very dangerous. Even if we're able to heal him, this poison will have long lasting effects. He'll likely spend the rest of his life weakened and in suffering. It would be better for him and the village if we put him out of his misery while we can."

Her eyes narrowed and flared, never in her life had she been so angry and when she spoke it was in a dangerously controlled whisper, "_That_...isn't mercy. That's cold-blooded murder." He opened his mouth to object, but she silenced it with a glare as her voice rose in volume, "I won't kill an unarmed man who can't even defend himself...You know, I might not be a real priestess, but even I know that's wrong. We're supposed to be the good guys. We're supposed to help people...not hurt them..."

"Sesshoumaru is not a person. He's youkai...he'd kill you without blinking twice."

"He _is_ a person..." She insisted, "And I know he'd kill me, he tried before, I remember...but I won't turn my back on someone just because they're born differently."

"He's dangerous, Kagome. This is no game we're playing." He replied, his argument becoming more heated as he tried to instill some sense of reason into the girl, "He could destroy this whole village and there'd be nothing either of us could do to stop him. I'm sorry for him...but one life isn't more important that the lives of everyone in that village. Have you thought of that? And once he destroys this village, what will stop him from destroying the next one and the one after that? You heard Kaede, he's in a state of permanent blood lust...he will destroy until he dies. In the end, he's just one more demon that needs to be exterminated..."

"Having compassion for your enemies is what separates us from Naraku...I haven't forgotten that. I won't. I can't. Killing anyone, demon or human, when they're weak is despicable. It's wrong and you know it." She answered back calmly, amazed that her voice managed to sound what she didn't feel, "The fact is, we don't know what he'll do. You...you just assume he'll wake up and kill everyone...and a few months ago, I'd agree with you. But not after last night. You didn't look into his eyes, Miroku. You didn't see what I saw. Besides, we have that incense to keep him quiet..."

"And we're running out and even if we weren't...He's daiyoukai. The incense won't work for much longer, even injured, he's too strong..." Miroku sighed and shook his head. He was torn and for the first time in a very long time, he wasn't sure what to do.

Kagome saw this and set a hand lightly on his arm, giving him an encouraging smile, "I know. That's why I'm going home. We already discussed this part, remember?"

"Yes...this medicine...You're sure it'll work?" He inquired, looking at her with measured apprehension.

"...It'll work, don't worry so much."

Miroku fidgeted for a bit as he thought, before questioning the girl again, "...How sure? Because if there's even a cha--"

She quickly interrupted him, "I'm sure."

"How sure?"

"One thousand. I'm sure in the amount of one thousand. This crap could knock an elephant out."

He gave her a strange look. The way she spoke and the things she talked about sometimes were beyond a mystery. Had this discussion not been so important, he might have asked her what she meant but this time he didn't. He got the gist of what she said, even if it were a rather odd way to phrase things, though he did file the word elephant away for future explanation.

"What about Inuyasha?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned his gaze back at the deepening sunset.

"What about him?"

"You know what will happen if he finds his half brother here. He won't care about the reasons...it'll be chaos."

"We have over a week and a half to get Sesshoumaru on his feet. Once we get the antidote, Kaede said his natural healing abilities will take over." She paused before speaking again, with a deliberately languid tone, "If he doesn't heal before then..._I'll _handle Inuyasha."

Miroku almost wanted to take a step away from the tiny priestess. She was so young and her appearance was so innocent, but she was truly a force to be reckoned with when angry. Thankfully, he hadn't been on the wrong side of her ire for quite sometime. Sango made a much more amusing and less terrifying target for his brand of teasing than Kagome. Perhaps she was right. There was a warning in his heart, that this could all go horribly awry, but he trusted Kagome. The girl had spirit; it was an unquenchable fire that burned brightly from within. She feared nothing. Not Naraku, not Sesshoumaru. Even when both had sought her life, she stood defiant against them, daring to take action when warriors more experienced than she cowered. It was obvious to him that things in her era were quite different and that she never faced such danger before. Yet still, she never turned to run. She always faced forward and he wondered where such strength came from. Looking down at her, he smiled as he contemplated the mystery that was Kagome, maybe he'd never know. Maybe it was better that way.

With another head shake, he set a hand on her head and ruffled her hair, "You're a braver person than I am, Kagome."

She bated his hand away, grinned resolutely, "Am not...I just have less common sense."

Her smile widened as he laughed lightly at her joke. It was the truth after all. For a moment, the world went quiet as the tenor of the conversation sunk in. Worries melted away and before long they were just two friends enjoying their time together. After a long moment of quiet, Kagome felt an indistinct kind of frustration that nagged at her from every corner in her mind. She felt antsy, anticipation of some vague and distant something that loomed over the horizon. Kagome didn't like strange, unknowable emotions, she liked mysteries even less. She was a logical girl in an illogical era with highly illogical powers and even more illogical beings. When all else failed, she just accepted blindly but this time, she just couldn't follow without some thought. The pieces had to be fitted together and try as she might, they just didn't. She was just shy of turning over the entire puzzle in exasperation.

Narrowing her eyes, she quietly spoke up, "Miroku, what do you think happened?"

It was obviously something he couldn't answer. The only two people who could were Sesshoumaru, who was currently indisposed, and Rin. Her lip quivered as her mind formed the name and the haunting realization hit her that Rin would never answer another question again. She had to cover her mouth with a hand to avoid the sob that threatened to loose itself, the time for tears had passed.

The monk watched her carefully before he answered. He was no mind reader but he knew why the question was asked. Kagome's sometimes uncanny wisdom was misleading and belied her true age. She was an interesting mix of contradictions. Innocent and young, yet oddly wise and intelligent beyond her years, it was no wonder she was so often mistaken for a demon. She was too much of an enigma to be human. The gods had given her quite a gift but it was also a burden. It could fool you into believing she was so much older than her nineteen years. Her true age would reveal itself in these moments, when she tried to understand the world's cruelty, which she fought so hard against. He often wondered what her time was like. Was the world a better place five hundred years into the future? Free of the cruelty he'd come to accept? Probably not, as he could sometimes see the shadowed remains of some unspoken sorrow in her eyes. She never talked much about herself, or if she did, it was in the most superficial way possible. She'd chat on endlessly about her mother, grandfather, her brother, her cat, her friends and that odd school of hers. But never would she go into any real depth about it. Her father had died, she'd mentioned that almost in passing but she never spoke more of it.

The girl knew something of loss, perhaps not in the same way people of this era did. But she knew all the same. In her time, losing someone you love seemed to be a traumatic event. Not to say it wasn't in this time, but...it was something that was expected. These were violent times. People died everyday and you mourned, and then you moved on. Life seemed easier where she was from and to some extent he sensed that Kagome had been a bit sheltered. He surmised that perhaps death wasn't expected around every corner in her time and from what he'd gleaned from what little she said this was true. She spoke of things called antibiotics and other medical cures for ailments that could quickly kill you in the feudal era. In her era, people evidently didn't have to fight to survive. Death wasn't around every corner in her time. Life was and he could see it in the young priestess's eyes. She saw sorrow so clearly and she did not accept it for what it was, she fought against it. It was Kagome's way.

Miroku had often thought that if Kagome could, she'd stop death itself. Her tender heart really did do her credit but it was bound to get broken sooner or later. She gave so much without expecting anything in return. A kind heart was all well and good when tempered with wisdom. Kagome was wise, in her own unique way, but not when it came to matters of the heart. She gave everything she had, giving more freely than she should. Giving when she should hold back and she'd keep giving until there wasn't anything left for herself. Even now, she was giving. Miroku exhaled in frustration. He'd warned her against this, but here she was again, putting herself on the line for someone who she barely knew. Someone who probably wouldn't even appreciate all that she'd done, despite this, she'd work herself to death for the daiyoukai. There was a fine line between those touched by the divine and madmen and sometimes, Kagome skirted the edge. He'd been worried for her before but he knew she'd come out alright in the end. This time, he wasn't so sure and his brow furrowed in frustration.

"I don't know. But the attack was sudden and quite brutal. I expect that it was planned. Sesshoumaru is a formidable enemy and Kindoku takes months to prepare. It is likely this attack has been in the works for sometime. The presence of his ward was an added bonus it seems, I don't think killing her was intentional...but she was his one weakness. She was used as a means of distracting him from their true goal."

Kagome nodded heavily, her heart weighted by the knowledge that Rin had, indeed, been caught in the crossfire. A target by default because of whom she was associated with and the pieces fit neatly into place. Too neatly. Kagome fought the useless tears that hovered at the edge of her vision. The attack was sudden and unexpected. They'd managed to catch the daiyoukai unawares. Fatally injured his ward and shot him with a tiny nugget of liquid death that was guaranteed to kill him.

She paused before inhaling deeply, asking the dreaded but necessary question, "Do you think Naraku's behind it?"

It was an unspoken question but all of them suspected who would use such a poison on the daiyoukai. On the surface, it seemed foolish for Naraku to so directly threaten someone like Sesshoumaru. It would have made better sense to try and get the Lord of the West to side with him. The only problem with that was Sesshoumaru was not so easily manipulated, and unfortunately, Naraku only dealt in manipulation. He had tried once and failed, and rather than try again, Naraku sought to eliminate him as a potential enemy prematurely. And it would have worked. Kagome narrowed her eyes in thought. Yes, that made sense. Naraku probably left Sesshoumaru alive to wander the countryside weakened by the poison. He probably allowed him to get away. Perhaps hoping a human would kill him, or maybe even Inuyasha himself, because that kind of sick irony would amuse Naraku to no end. Kagome shook her head, steering herself away from thoughts that would only serve to upset herself. Miroku hadn't said much in the last few minutes and it was clear to her he was pondering the same thing.

He took a short breath before answering slowly, "We have no direct evidence, but this does fit his pattern. And I wouldn't put it past him."

Kagome's eyes steeled as she stared at the sinking sun. She'd thought then of all the suffering Naraku had caused and why this most recent act effected her so much. It was like her heart was being twisted and torn from within. She hadn't felt this way since she was a kid, when her father died. Maybe it was because she knew Rin. True, she didn't know the girl intimately, but she felt like she did. _Was that weird?_ She wasn't sure. Rin seemed like such a sweet kid, at least from the one or two times she'd met the girl. In her mind's eye, she could still see Rin happily skipping after her lord with the blind loyalty of a saint, singing to herself quietly. An image of a similar little girl, skipping merrily behind her own father while she sang came to mind. She saw herself in Rin. It was as simple as that. What really had happened? She was tired of wild conjecture, she wanted the truth and she'd asked that one question over and over again. Still did. But in the end, she wasn't so sure she wanted the answer. She had imagined a hundred thousand scenarios, each one more horrible than the one before it. They ran through her mind like an endlessly looping nightmare, an unblinking film reel filled with nothing but horror and pain.

What were Rin's last thoughts before she died? It had to have happened soon after he arrived in the village. Her death hadn't been quick. She'd been in a lot of pain but she was in her lord's arms. Did that fact mitigate the agony she'd felt before slipping into the quiet black of death? Her little hands had tightly gripped the front of his haori. She could remember grimacing as she pulled them off forcibly. The girl had a look of utter contentment and peace on her face, as if this was the only place in the world she'd ever wanted to be. She'd been happy. In his arms, she was happy and she'd died in peace, finding nirvana in that one simple moment. Kagome could feel it. She'd been so happy. How could she be happy? How? How could she feel safe with him? He hated humans. He killed without mercy. Human, youkai, Sesshoumaru had never cared if anyone else lived or died. Yet the girl was happy with him. Why? It was the latest in the mountain of evidence that suggested there was more to Inuyasha's seemingly coldhearted brother than met the eye.

Did he care for her?

She remembered the first time she'd come upon the little girl. The air about him changed as Rin danced up to him. It wasn't perceivable, it was a gut feeling. His outward appearance never shifted but something seemed...different...when he looked at her. His eyes almost softened. The aura that surrounded him that normally radiated cold impatience shifted. He seemed at ease with her, in his own way. His aura seemed to come to life when the girl was near. It wasn't cold or uncomfortable, it was...brighter somehow.

He'd nearly killed Kohaku when the boy threatened Rin's life. The only thing that saved the boy from an untimely death was Sesshoumaru's knowledge that killing Kohaku was exactly what Naraku wanted. From that day forward, Sesshoumaru seemed focused on finding and ripping Naraku to shreds. Kagome wasn't arrogant enough as to assume it was only for threatening the girl but still, he was willing to kill for the child. That was saying something. And every time she'd seen the girl after that, the same thoughts floated up to her. Sesshoumaru seemed different. Changed. It was an odd relationship but she was silently glad. He'd changed and the girl had somehow been a part of that. It gave her an odd sense of hope. She'd never liked the gaping rift between Inuyasha and his brother. It was wrong for siblings to fight like that...over a damned old, rusty sword of all things. This change might help...well...something. She wasn't quite sure what but she had noted the changes in Sesshoumaru even before they'd seen Rin. They all had...except for Inuyasha, who was notoriously dense when it came to simple observations like that. Even though it was painfully obvious.

Sesshoumaru didn't try so hard anymore when fighting Inuyasha. His death threats sounded more like he was reciting a speech by rote. There was no feeling in them. He didn't really mean it. The fights were more for pride, both his and Inuyasha's. They were for show, nothing more. There were several times when he could have gone for the kill but he didn't. He held back and everyone had noticed, except Inuyasha. His attempts to take Tessaiga had ceased altogether. It was like he wasn't interested anymore or if he was; it was a passing interest, one that he could easily wait for.

He cared for the girl and she had cared for him, though it was probably all unacknowledged. Kagome knew this, felt it in her heart. The first honest evidence of his true feelings was the night she died. When he howled his sorrow to the stars and how sad it was that it took her death for him to acknowledge that. How sad indeed.

Her eyes darkened with her thoughts and she let slip a few tears. She quickly wiped them away, taking several, small calming breaths. Miroku saw this and gave her a friendly hug, which she returned. Thankfully, no more tears came. Instead, she felt a strengthening resolve to make Naraku pay dearly. She'd get Sesshoumaru on his feet. Make him well enough to take his bloody revenge out on the evil hanyou. A relieved sigh left her lips after making that silent promise to herself, not realizing there'd come a day when she'd regret that foolish vow.

Miroku held her a little tighter, she felt better and in the moment, she was glad to receive such comfort...from Miroku of all people. He hadn't even tried to grope her yet. The operative word being yet, because within the next few seconds she felt his hand snake down and grab her bottom. She scowled, kicking herself for speaking too soon and thinking too highly of the lecherous monk. Damned law of averages. She quickly broke the embrace simultaneously hauling an arm back to sock him in the shoulder as hard as she could.

"Pervert!"

He grinned at her, rubbing the spot she'd just hit with a look on his face that practically screamed, "_I couldn't help myself_!" She almost punched him again, just for good measure. Kagome stuck her tongue out at him as she prepared to enter the well. They said their goodbyes and just as she jumped into the well, she called out playfully behind her.

"I'M TELLING SANGO WHEN SHE GETS BACK!"

Miroku paled for a moment, imagining the beautiful slayer's angry face and the possible painful repercussions of his thoughtless grope. He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping a bit before regaining his composure. The well behind him activated and he watched the pale blue light as it glowed brightly before winking out. He smiled then. Yes, he was going to get a rather nasty knot in the head from Sango for groping Kagome. But it was worth it for so many reasons.

"Ah, sweet agony." He said, to no one in particular.

As he left the clearing, he couldn't help but smile just a bit wider in anticipation.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

First, THE DEFINITIONS!

Kindoku--It is, IN FACT, a mushroom poison.

Gyosei--The Morning Star (ie--Venus)

Kusui--I had the meaning of this one written down somewhere, but alas! I lost it. It was actually a couple of characters I picked out of my Kanji dictionary smushed together. So, it had a meaning...which was probably wrong but it did. And now we'll never know because I'm a jackass. Sorry, folks!

Second, THE AUTHOR'S NOTES...FOR REALS THIS TIME!

Right. So, here's the second, even more depressing chapter. It's not gonna get any better. This IS a very angst ridden little fic, so...yeah. There was something important I was supposed to relate to you all but somehow...I forgot...maybe because I'm with the flaky right now. (Writing more than one fic at a time does that to you. Seriously. It's horrible.) In answer to some viewer mail...yes, this be a Sessh/Kag fic. I always start things slow, so bear with me. Come chapter three we'll have our first hints of Sessh/Kag goodness...I promise. And yes, this will have some sexual content. I'll warn you before it happens, so no worries. Also, I had a question as to where Jaken was during all this. You'll find out, all in good time. All in good time. Though if you want a hint, notice what condition Sesshoumaru and Rin were in and you'll pretty much have the answer. I won't elaborate over exactly what happened to them, though I will hint at it. So just be patient. Your author sort of has a plan for things. Sort of.


	3. Subliminal

_Subliminal_

_In an unnoticeable way_

_Important_

_And hard to see_

_--They Might Be Giants_

She'd only spent a night in her own time to gather the supplies she'd need for the next day. Her family was glad to see her and it had been hard to be her normal, cheerful self. It was only until she got some time alone with her mother that she let go. Her mother's embrace is what she needed then. It seemed so childish. She was nineteen, an adult, and she was running to mommy for comfort. It wasn't just childish, it was stupid and cowardly but her mother made sure she felt neither of these things.

"It doesn't matter how old you are, Kagome. You'll always be my little girl..."

Her mother's out of place words echoed through the shadowy veils of time. Unfurling like a curtain caught in the wind just before a storm. It was true. No matter how old you are, in the eyes of your mother...you will always be a child in need of love and comfort. As an adult, she felt bad about it. She felt like she should have been stronger, more grown up. She should have tried to deal with it on her own but she couldn't. Her mother had informed her that there was no shame in it. Being there for her child was her job. It was a mother's duty from the day her child was born. That duty didn't end once the child became an adult. As long as her Kagome needed her, she'd be there. Kagome hadn't really understood and her mother informed her she never would. Not until she had a child of her own.

After she had a long talk and a good cry with her mother, she'd started to pack. Her mother had helped, specifically with finding the Diazepam and the needles. Kagome had often teased her mother for being a bit of a pack rat. Now she had to eat those words, because if it hadn't been for her mom and her thrifty ways, they'd be out five vials of Diazepam and a handful of needles. All of which they'd need. She hated eating her words, but it had to be done. After a profuse amount of apologizing, Kagome sat quietly and listened to her mother as she explained how to inject the tranquilizer.

She had to thank the gods again, for giving her a mother who was not only a pack rat but also a registered nurse. Okay, a now retired registered nurse, but a nurse all the same. She couldn't imagine what kind of shape everyone back in the feudal era would be in if she didn't have a least a little medical knowledge, which was all courtesy of her mother.

After everything was packed, she was prepared to go to bed but before she could, her mother insisted on a short trip to the store. The reason for the trip was soon revealed. The small florist's shop around the corner was still open. She bought a small bouquet of white Chrysanthemums for Kagome to take back to place on the little girl's grave. On the drive home the lights of the city skimmed the reflective surface of the glass, casting patterns of color over her eyes. She watched the bustle of the city in the half light of spring time. Where the sun was caught between the pull of winter and summer, and the world was caught with it. It was a season between the dark death of winter and the bright life of summer in a world that was waiting as she was waiting. Placing a hand on the glass, she wondered how her life was going to work out. Kagome was half in and half out of the world. She was the spring as it came out from under winter's curtain, perpetually waiting for summer. Her fingers trailed down the glass as she set her hand back in her lap. They were home now, as if she could even call it that anymore.

This most recent event had gotten her thinking that maybe it was time to give this whole feudal era thing up. For four long years the mantra she repeated to herself was, "I have a duty. I broke the jewel, I have to fix it." And it had worked for the first year and a half but now, not so much. When everything had started, it was like a romantic dream but reality soon sunk in. The feudal era was a dangerous time and death stalked you like a predator in the night.

Jarring out of her memories, her eyes darkened in sad realization. It took one little girl's life six years ago and it had taken Kagome's with it. Then and now. Both had disappeared into the yawning vortex, never to be seen again.

What was she doing with her life? What had she ruined it all for?...Nothing. She'd thrown away her future in her time for adventure in the feudal era. Now she was in this stinking waiting room, waiting for an interview that she didn't really need to protect the secret of the same jewel she'd thrown her life away for. It was stupid. And annoying. Looking at her watch, she scowled. And her future employer was freaking late. She had a chance back then. To step back and reclaim her life in Modern Tokyo, but instead, she'd gone back to the same teenage dreamland. Despite her reservations for her own safety and the lamentation that she hadn't done anything with her life. That her high school days were just continuing while her friends had grown up, gone to college and moved on. But still, she stayed. Not for Inuyasha, not for a sense of duty...at that time, she didn't even know why she kept going back. Perhaps it was because she really had nothing else.

The sad thing was, she didn't have much now and if she could, she'd probably still be going back there.

She belonged there, in the past. Not here, in this waiting room. She should still be there and maybe that's what killed her inside. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she fingered her cel phone and stared at the potted plant in the corner. Maybe they had a place for her here, with her own pedestal and a neat little descriptive tag. She sighed despondently, continuing her dalliance with painful remembrance because...because she honestly had nothing better to do. It was either this or make constellations out of ceiling tile holes. One way or the other, she'd end up doing this. Remembering was a rut she was firmly mired in, probably for the rest of her life.

"_Ah, well_." She thought flippantly, her thoughts transitioning awkwardly as she made the plant in the corner her new target, "_On with the memories_..." She merged with her younger self, the one that was only held in her memory now. The one she alternately cursed and praised. She always was a paradox, even in her own mind. Closing her eyes, she just remembered, thinking in the back of her mind that there had to be a reason for this to come up...now of all times.

Sleep had come easily that night so long ago, despite the nightmares that peppered her dreamscape. The next day she'd woken up early to go back to the feudal era. The melancholia of the night before was left pushed to the back of her mind. Her problems with her own life were trivial and she had decided to focus on the task at hand. Exiting the well on the other side, she took a deep breath of spring air. The air was so much cleaner on this side and she reveled in it. She squinted as she gazed at the sun which was lazily encroaching on the horizon. Gently, it spread amber waves of clear light over the country side, bathing the window of the world in crisp, clear color. It was the kind of morning that should have been spent at leisure. A morning spent in the company of friends or family, enjoying a light breakfast. Instead of pancakes and companionship, she woke to a job she didn't want and a duty she never asked for. Kagome kicked herself on the inside while she wished she was anyone else but herself at this moment.

Shouldering her pack, she let out a long, tired sigh as she trudged towards the village with a heavy heart. Halfway there, Miroku met her with Shippou in tow. They seemed on edge as they rushed her to the village. She soon found out why. During the night, the incense had stopped working. No one had expected its effects to fade so soon, so no watch was set. The daiyoukai had woken in the middle of the night sometime and had left. They hadn't noticed a thing till the morning when they woke to find him gone. Miroku had explained that he and a small group of men had gone to look for Sesshoumaru shortly after discovering his absence. He had been found in the small village cemetery sitting in front of the little girl's grave. When they'd come within ten feet of him, he had let out a low, warning growl. He hadn't made a move to attack, which was a clear indication that he was still sentient and had not surrendered entirely to his more primal instincts. His sense of friend and foe were not completely blurred, not yet anyway. They had backed off at that point and had waited for Kagome.

The girl in question listened quietly to the monk's tale as they entered the village. Thoughts flickered absently like the lights in a movie house and she was hard pressed to pick one to concentrate on. There was an urge to make a smart remark about the village still being in tact, she remembered that clearly. The urge was bitten back because she'd realized that gloating wouldn't help things. The village was overly quiet and Kagome was startled as she realized that no one was on the road. This was a farming village and the roads should have been bustling. The fields were empty as well. Everything was quiet. Not even the birds seemed to make a sound. It was unnerving and strange. The fate of the village was balanced on the edge of a knife and it all hung on the slim shoulders of one young woman. She didn't like it, didn't like the slow realization that Miroku had cleared the village, sending the villagers someplace safe while they waited for her to deal with the daiyoukai. She was suddenly glad she'd bit her tongue.

Over the last four years the village had begun to turn to her, looking to her for guidance. Kaede was getting older, and though she was still respected, the burden of protecting the village was becoming too much for her. The elderly priestess had stepped back and allowed Kagome to fill in when she could not. At first, she hadn't minded but as time passed, she felt the beginnings of resentment. They were trying to make her Kikyo. She didn't want to be Kikyo, she wanted to be Kagome. Rejecting the village's respect for her was out of the question, but she refused to wear the red and white of a priestess, as well as the title that went along with it. Often, she'd thought of dressing more appropriately in more traditional clothes but the stubborn voice in the back of her head disagreed. She let it win, continuing to wear modern clothes and insisting that she be called just Kagome. Not priestess. Not Lady Kagome. Just Kagome.

This confused the villagers quite deeply but they did as they were told. Though, secretly, they always thought of her as their priestess and when she wasn't around, they'd add the title to her name. Kagome could deny what she was all she wanted, but she was imbued with the holy powers of a priestess. She wielded the traditional weapon of a priestess. And, she protected the jewel as a true priestess would. The title was hers, whether she wanted it or not. Besides, she may have refused her title but she never refused to help when asked. She never shirked her duty, ever.

This time was no exception, she'd put her own life on the line for the village AND the youkai that threatened it. In the eyes of many, she was a truly remarkable young woman. In her own eyes, she was as unprepared and weak as she'd always felt herself to be. She made plans with Miroku as they walked through the village. Hearing her own voice as it echoed through her skull, she sounded much more confident than she felt. When on the inside, she was trembling like a bit ol' pile of gelatin in the middle of an earthquake.

Halfway to the cemetery, she sent Shippou off to Kaede with the jewel shards. The kit wasn't happy about her decision, but she wasn't about to bring a little kid into such a dangerous situation. Besides, if things went awry she wanted someone to survive this to tell Inuyasha what happened. Shippou and Kaede were their best bets as far as Kagome was concerned.

Her eyes drifted to the soft pastoral scenery in front of her. The world was so incredibly vivid and alive in that moment. Wistful beauty surrounded her, and she found it hard to enjoy it as she normally would. She would have stopped and just stared, eyes softening as the sun crowned the forest. The morning was honestly the best time of the day, in her opinion. Bright and fresh, full of beginnings and not endings but this day was a contradiction. Her heart was heavy, but the morning broke so spectacularly that she almost resented it. This day should have been cold and gloomy, with rain. Lots and lots of rain. The world should have wept, instead it smiled.

Gentle patterns of shadowed light brushed over the two humans walking together in companionable silence. Kagome tried very hard to look the part of a resolute warrior, or at the very least, a peeved young woman of almost twenty. For what it was worth, it worked but she didn't feel it. She'd faced Sesshoumaru before and she knew what he could do. All the times before, she'd had someone to back her up. A certain someone who could and would come to her rescue and that someone was not here. Miroku was, and while she wasn't worried about him coming to her aide, it was a matter of how much he could help if the daiyoukai went berserk. If worse came to worse, she'd instructed him to use his wind tunnel...even if she was in the way. He didn't like the idea and neither did she, but one life was not worth the lives of all the villagers, as she reminded him so subtly. Miroku followed her as far as the cemetery entrance, his face hard and knotted with worry.

"You'll be alright?" He asked for the nth time.

"Yes. I'll be fine." She replied, looking at him with her most determined face, "If anything goes wrong, I'll whistle once..."

Miroku nodded grimly, remembering the sound and the first time he'd heard it. Inuyasha had been impatient again and he'd run ahead of everyone else. A high pitched sound had come from Kagome's mouth at that moment and everyone had covered their ears and looked at her. The strange girl from the future stood there in full, stubborn glory, two fingers shoved firmly in her mouth. She'd tried to show him how she did it, but he never quite got the hang of it.

"I hear your whistle and come running..."

"Wind tunnel a blazin'..." She said with a grin, hoping to make the butterflies in her stomach still by cracking wise.

"Now isn't the time for levity, Kagome." He admonished, not at all liking the plan as it stood.

"Now IS the time for joking. I'm nervous enough as it is...what with all the possible death and dismemberment. I'm the one who has to go into the lion's den...or dog's den...as it were." Kagome said, trailing off as her mind lead down different avenues to distract herself from her so-called impending doom, "Well, it's not so much a den as it is a cemetery...Where do they get that anyway? Lions don't really have dens. Dogs do...but I suppose that's not the point..."

Miroku coughed hard, trying his best to remain serious, "I understand you're nervous but could we..."

"Yeah. Sorry." She said, with a nervous titter before turning around to gaze at her destination.

"Good luck." He said quietly as she entered the cemetery proper.

To say that she didn't want to do this was the understatement of the year. She'd rather scoop her eyes out with a melon baller than do this.

"_Look at it this way_..._least they won't have to go far if he kills you_." She mused inwardly, not the least bit comforted by the thought.

Miroku saw her face blanch as she turned from him. He set a reassuring hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze before sending her on her way. She didn't want to do this alone. Kagome despised thinking of herself as weak. She tried to act every inch the modern girl. Strong and self reliant, the kind of girl who didn't need saving. Funny how that plan backfired again and again. Here she was, going towards the danger...again and she should be proud to do it. This time, there was no Inuyasha to stop her. No loud but blessedly strong hanyou to fling her out of the way after calling her a stupid wench. She should be happy to finally prove to herself. To show Inuyasha she wasn't so weak and she didn't always need him.

She could be unafraid, like his precious Kikyo. Except not some stupid priestess, she'd be like...like...like an Amazon. Flipping through the forest like a ninja on a mission, ready to kick ass and ask questions later. But instead, she was shaking in her boots, thinking of a thousand ways to teleport herself away. Going home for good sounded like such a good idea right then that she almost dropped everything and ran like a madwoman back to the well. It took everything in her to put one foot in front of the other. Maybe there was someway to blackmail Miroku into coming with her. She didn't really HAVE to face Sesshoumaru alone. He could have at least followed her a little farther in. The big coward...letting a tiny little woman like herself go it alone against a youkai.

Not just any youkai. A DAIyoukai. A daiyoukai who could split her in half. A daiyoukai who once tried to melt her face off.

She shook her head. This line of thought was doing her no good. She focused her thoughts on Rin and the look on Sesshoumaru's face when he'd come to the village. This had to be done and she was probably the only one who could do it. Miroku had tried and he'd been growled at for his trouble. Growling in youkai terms equals "_I won't kill you yet but I'm thinking about it, so unless you haul ass now...you might as well embrace your great new life without a head_." So, she was probably okay as long as he didn't growl and if he did, then she'd get with the hauling ass. Well, either that...or she'd have to come to terms with 'her great new life without a head'.

All humor aside, she hated this plan. It was thought that because he'd come to the village seeking her, that maybe he'd be more amenable to her company. Being that he growled at everyone else. It was an unproved theory...No, that was giving it too much credit. It was a damned guess that he wouldn't view her as a threat. As far as plans went, it plain sucked. It was wild speculation that in his diminished state he'd somehow view her as friend, rather than enemy. Yes, this was the great and noble plan. To let Kagome go to the cemetery, stick him with animal tranquilizers and pray for the best. It was a ludicrously stupid idea and it was all they had.

Biting her lip, she inched towards the currently immobile demon that sat in a nice sunny spot on the far side of the cemetery. She stared at the back of his head as she moved forward in small increments. With each step she came closer. In her head, she was counting her steps to judge when she'd hit the ten foot mark. If she got there with no growl, she'd be as good as gold. Clutching her pack just a bit tighter, she hoped this theory they'd dreamed up was true. Because if it wasn't, she'd SO haunt Miroku after she died. Her foot stepped over the ten foot mark and she froze, looking up as she waited for some kind of reaction. Sesshoumaru didn't make a move or a sound. As she came just a bit closer, she wondered if he was alive. He was but that wasn't the point. He was just...so still.

It was a pleasant spring day. A light, warm breeze buffeted the two lone figures in the little village cemetery. It was strange that such a monument to mortality looked so vibrant on a day like this. She stopped, looking at the worn path she walked and the flimsy, homemade grave markers stuck in the earth. It was moments like this that she was struck by how strange this time really was to her. This cemetery was nothing like the ones she'd see at home in modern Tokyo. There were no carefully sculpted obelisks made of granite with the names of the deceased etched on the beautifully polished stone, just simple pieces of wood with names that were painted on, and just as easily worn away by the elements. Some graves weren't even marked that obviously, some were just humps of earth with offerings for the dead placed ceremoniously on top. The wind rustled again, blowing just a bit harder this time. She brushed her hair from her face as she quietly approached the daiyoukai. Her eyes never left the back of his head and she had regrettably become a bit lost in thought as she stared at it. The morning sun had hit it just the right was so that it glowed like silken tendrils of pure white light, glowing from within and without, as if it were made from the stars themselves. It made for a very surreal image, completely out of place in the plain, earthly cemetery.

There was a silence in the air that hung low and thick, and for a moment it seemed that the only one not frozen in time was Sesshoumaru. He sat there in the sun, almost too bright to look at but she was hypnotized. Her eyes wouldn't move from the sight of him. She was a child so absorbed as she stared at the sun that she didn't notice the black spots in front of her eyes. A sudden gust shook the surrounding forest and in the distance, the sudden sound of thousands of birds taking wing disturbed the silence. Her head snapped towards the sound as her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

Breathlessly, she watched the birds swarm the sky, twining around each other midair like tiny speckled dancers. Her hand went to her heart and she willed herself to calm down. She was afraid to breathe as she turned back to Sesshoumaru. Quietly as she could, she inhaled and exhaled just as slowly as she walked. Her heart continued to pound in her chest with quick, heavy beats. The closer she got, the more she noticed every noise she made, no matter how minute. Her breathing sounded like the roar of a dragon to her ears, her heart was a drum but worst of all were her feet. They scuffed lightly against the trail but in her mind, they sounded like the ragged churning of rock grinder. Each foot slowly pulverizing rocks underneath her feet as she dragged them forward step after step. She was within a foot of him. How could he NOT hear her? Why didn't he react? She was so close now. Close enough to touch him if she wanted to, if she only reached out her hand...

But she really, really didn't want to.

Duty had called and she had no choice because she'd already answered and told it what time she was coming. She was expected.

"_Damn stupid sense of responsibility_."

She took a deep breath, taking encouragement from the fact that she'd made it this close without being dismembered. Gracefully, she lowered herself to the ground, setting her pack next to her as she got settled. Pressing her lips together, she took her first real look at her patient's face. The entire time in Kaede's hut, she'd been busy preparing poultices and unguents for the elderly priestess's use that she hadn't any time to take in the damage. The daiyoukai sat there quietly, his back ramrod straight as he stared at Rin's grave. His eyes were unmoving, seeming to stare forward like a horse with blinders on. He could see nothing but the grave, all else was blurred beyond the edge of his vision. His eyes were still red, though they had darkened as bit by bit he lost more of himself to his blood beast.

Yet, there was still enough of his rational self to walk calmly to this grave, enough to distinguish between the villagers, Miroku and herself. The villagers and Miroku were unknown. Not enemies, but not welcome. She apparently fell into the category of friend, or at the very least, welcome or perhaps just tolerable.

It had to be taxing for him, forcing such control when he was weakened. When she narrowed her eyes, she could almost see the black mist of the poison as it sucked energy from him. She had to admire his strength which was weird for her, being that he was not exactly on friendly terms with her group. Plus, him with the hating humans...though he didn't hate every human. It was an encouraging thought but filtered with sadness, as the only human he cared for was now gone. Kagome shook her head; her mind was full to brimming with a myriad of conflicting thoughts. She'd never been so confused and had decided to simplify things. Fix daiyoukai's wounds, tranq daiyoukai, then leave...hopefully with all limbs in tact.

Yes, that plan would do just fine. She nodded and smiled at the thought, her momentary happiness at the decision faded as her eyes took in the daiyoukai's features once more. He seemed more like marble than flesh. His eyes glazed over like a Greek statue. They were unseeing, looking out into the world without taking anything in. She wasn't sure, but she didn't think he was terribly aware of his surroundings. He had a vague sense of who was near when they came close enough, but nothing else seemed to register. It was like he was an empty vessel or perhaps more correctly, a blank slate. There was nothing behind the vacant stare, just empty black.

He blinked and she let out a startled gasp. Until that moment she'd been halfway convinced that he was sleeping or comatose...or something. It was the first sense that he was awake and aware, the first sign of movement she'd seen in him. She chided herself inwardly for not only being a scaredy cat but for being just plain stupid. Exhaling in one long breath and then slowly inhaling, she prepared herself for what she had to do. She placed her hands on her knees, scooting closer to him as slowly and quietly as she could.

Tipping her head to the side, she spoke softly to him with undertones of placation, "Good morning, Lord Sesshoumaru. How are you feeling?"

Realistically, she didn't really expect an answer. Even if he'd been his normal self, he wouldn't have answered her because she was beneath his notice. Had he been in his right mind, he'd have probably ignored her and the question. Or...if he had _deigned_ to take notice, he would have glared at her before making a curt insult about humans scornfully directed at Inuyasha, rather than at her, before walking away calmly. But those were all reactions. Not good reactions and most assuredly not reactions she liked or was really looking for but it was better than nothing. And nothing she had in over-abundance. He did nothing. Said nothing, just sat there without even so much as a muscle twitch. The only indication she had he was even alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest and occasionally when his eyes would blink.

It was disconcerting to say the least. The whole situation put her at odds and his whole non-reactive...ness...was giving her the wiggins. It was strange. Very strange that he didn't seem to react to anything. Miroku said that they'd only just set foot in the cemetery and he'd growled. Kagome had begun to wonder if the monk was imagining things, because clearly you could set off a chain of screaming firecrackers right next to his ear...She paused as a very strange, possibly crazy idea came to mind. All demons, regardless of species, had very good hearing. This was especially true in regards to dog demons. Their hearing was quite acute, even if said dog demon was only a hanyou. And if that dog demon was a daiyoukai...

She lifted her hands up slowly. Holding them in such a way that she looked as if she were about to clap her hands over a fly. She stuck her tongue out in concentration as her hands hovered next to his ear. "_This is without a doubt the stupidest thing I've ever done. Maybe I should have said goodbye to everyone before_..._AH! Don't think that way, Kagome! Just do it!_" She winced and closed her eyes, clapping her hands in one quick, hard motion right next to the daiyoukai's ear. The sound echoed harshly, even in her own ears. She sat there for a moment still holding her hands out as if in prayer as she watched him. Her palms had slapped together so violently that the skin had reddened. It tingled a bit and after a beat, she set her hands back in her lap, rubbing them together to rid herself of the irritation. All the while, she watched the daiyoukai for a reaction and was rewarded with a world of nothingness.

It was like she wasn't even there. The thought passed and it astonished her. Moments before she'd been patting herself on the back that she'd gotten this far without a reaction. Now, she wasn't so sure that was a good thing. In fact, she was becoming surer by the moment that it _wasn't_ a good thing...at all. Perplexed, she waved a hand in front of his face. It was another boldly stupid thing to do but she did it anyway, and was rewarded with the same silent non-reaction. Not good. Not good at all. Cautiously, she scooted closer and biting her bottom lip into oblivion, she set her hand on top of his arm. Surely, he wouldn't put up with a human touching him. Her eyes flickered from her hand to his face and back again. He blinked languorously but did nothing.

Kagome scowled worriedly, feeling very alarmed at Sesshoumaru's behavior or lack thereof. She decided to push the envelope. Her hand rested on his arm but the skin was still covered by his sleeve. There was a layer between her flesh and his, so perhaps the contact was unobjectionable to him for that reason alone. She pushed the sleeve back and in the guise of taking his pulse, she firmly grasped his wrist. Her fingers pressed into the soft flesh as she held them there, watching Sesshoumaru carefully the entire time. His pulse beat slowly but it was strong and very regular. Despite this, he didn't blink or even seem to notice that a human being...a filthy human woman that was his brother's companion, was touching him. This was beyond alarming.

"Lord Sesshoumaru, are you well?" She questioned politely, feeling proud of herself for sounding so calm as her voice rang clearly and loudly in the tranquil morn. "I've come to examine your wounds." She waited for an answer and received a vast array of nothingness, "That is...if you don't mind..."

His hair tangled gently in a sudden gust of wind which lifted it up to sway in ethereal mid-air. The breeze that caught it let it go just as suddenly and it floated back down to settle on the ground. He blinked again in languid succession, closing his eyes when his breathing hitched momentarily before evening out. His eyes opened with painful slowness, yet he made no effort to acknowledge the person who sat at his side in stunned silence. It was discouraging. She needed to know it was okay to do what she had to do without the danger of decapitation. She scowled and exhaled sharply which inadvertently blew her bangs out of her eyes.

Steeling herself, she spoke up again, this time not hiding the seed of peevish aggravation that twisted in the back of her mind, "I'll have to remove your haori. Unless of course, you object..."

As expected, he didn't answer, even when she came close enough for her legs to touch his. Not even when she reached out and began to loosen the haori. His eyes stared forward, unseeing. They were blank, bleak orbs tainted a dark blood red. The world was glazed and hazy to him, masked by unfathomable darkness. Trapped within himself, all he could do was watch what little of the world could reach him. Kagome sighed heavily for the hundredth time that day. If the completed jewel had fallen into her hands at that moment, she was sure what she'd wish for but it didn't.

Wishing didn't do much good anyway. She had a duty to uphold. With great resolve, she boldly leaned over farther and worked the haori from his pants. Such action no longer embarrassed her. When she first started her training, she'd often get flustered at the mere sight of a shirtless man. The very idea of forcibly undressing one, like she was now, was enough to make her cheeks glow neon red. But after four years of it, she'd lost her girlish squeamishness. In order to get the job done, she'd adopted a sort of clinical view of the human body.

She'd been the main healer for the entire group. This meant she often saw Inuyasha and Miroku without shirts on, and occasionally even Kouga. And with the frequency with which all three of them got injured, she had no time to be embarrassed over a little exposed flesh. Sesshoumaru was no exception, even though she'd never treated him before. She pulled the left flap of his haori off and exposed his chest. The young priestess didn't even blink twice, regarding the youkai with distant professionalism. As if she'd seen his chest everyday and had become bored with it. The only thing that stopped her was her first look at his missing arm. She froze mid-gesture as the garment slipped off his shoulder. Her left hand was clasped onto the right flap of the haori. The other hovered just above his exposed chest as she stared at the stump that was once his left arm. Shaking her head, she pulled his right hand out of its sleeve. She struggled with it as his arm had gone limp and pulling it out of its sleeve was like trying to undress an oversized rag doll.

After a few minutes of fighting with the sleeve, she managed to pull his arm free of it. Folding the garment neatly, she laid it next to her only after she'd set his hand back in his lap. She was now free to begin her ministrations and dutifully began to remove his old bandages. As she peeled them away carefully, she had to grimace at the condition of his wounds. Some of the larger lacerations had bled through and upon close examination; she noted they were still open and raw. They hadn't really healed at all. Some hadn't even clotted and still trickled blood. Thankfully, the bandages had caught most of it and his new clothes hadn't been stained. Still, this was not good.

Worried now, Kagome swiftly pulled her supplies from her pack, not caring if her sudden flurry of movement would upset the daiyoukai. She gathered her supplies together, her hands working with sharp, urgent grace. She pulled out a small metal pan and filled it with two parts bottled water to one part hydrogen peroxide. Her fingernails bit into the plastic packaging on a surgical sponge. She tore it open and immediately dunked the sponge in the water, squeezing out the excess before she began to clean the skin around his wounds. Her hands journeyed from the pan of water to the daiyoukai's chest and back several times. She did this until the water turned dark red. Kagome had counted the number of times she had to dump out the old water and replace it with new. Five times. She had to change it five times. Eventually satisfied that the wounds were clean, she blotted his skin dry with an old beach towel.

During the entire episode, she found herself unconsciously avoiding the stump of his arm. Sometimes, she'd catch herself staring at it as if transfixed. She'd taken it from him. Not directly, but because of her, he'd been disabled. She felt disgusted with herself, remembering her feelings the moment she saw Inuyasha lop it off. At the time...at the time, she had felt victorious. Sure, there was guilt but it was quickly tossed away. He'd deserved it. He tried to kill her. _That's karma at work, Kagome_. That's what she told herself. It had never bothered her, even when she met Rin. She never thought for a moment about the arm he lost or how he lost it. Never spared a moment of regret for him, as she had with so many others...never...until now. Would he have been able to protect Rin better if he had both arms?

It was irrational to blame herself for it, but she did anyway. Just like she blamed herself for breaking the jewel even though it had only been an accident. Her eyes softened and though she didn't cry, she kind of wanted to. Hitching a sigh, she reached out and lightly touched what remained of his left arm. If there was a way for her to give it back to him, she would. Another regret, another wish. _Wish in one hand, Kagome. Crap in the other and see which piles up first_. Her gaze flickered to his face, still impassively blank and staring out into nothing.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as her lip trembled and she found that she couldn't look at his face any longer. Wiping a tear away, she continued, "...For a lot of things."

Kagome had to stop. With her head in her hand, she tried to reign in her emotions because her hands were shaking too much to continue. After several very tedious, near tear-stained moments, she composed herself and finished bandaging him. Before she replaced his haori, she moved on to her final...most odious duty. Giving him the tranquilizer. She quietly readied the needle, pulling it from its pack and uncapping it. Taking the Diazepam in one hand, she quickly plunged the needle in. Steadily, she drew the fluid into the syringe, watching carefully for air bubbles. Once she'd reached the line that marked the proper dosage for his weight and height, she pulled the needle free from the ampoule. She thumped the side lightly as she held the syringe upright, needle pointing towards the sky. Kagome lightly pressed the plunger twice, before looking at the syringe a second time. Satisfied there were no air bubbles, she continued to hold it aloft before regarding her silent companion again.

"You did very well, Lord Sesshoumaru. Much better than your brother...but I should have expected as much." She said brightly, trying to keep things light. Not only for herself but for him as well, not that he'd notice. Still...She smiled before speaking again, this time more softly, "We're almost done but...I'm going to have to give you some medicine now for the pain." Holding out the needle for his examination, she inhaled deeply before continuing, "This is human medicine from my village. It's very powerful. I suspect you probably wouldn't really want it but...I think, what with the poison and all...well...You're not really healing normally. And we want to get you on your feet as soon as possible. This'll just make things easier, till Sango gets back and we can patch you up for good. I have to inject it into your arm. It'll only hurt for a moment."

Kagome finished her rambling explanation, adding in her head, "_I'm sorry and please, no decapitating the healer. I REALLY like my head where it is_." She straightened out his arm, so that the soft skin at the crook was exposed. Patting it lightly, she looked for a good vein to use for the injection. She found one and carefully lined the needle up with it. The needle was pressed into his flesh with swift, sure precision. Assured it was in properly, she slowly pushed down the plunger, injecting the clear liquid into the daiyoukai's veins. Once the syringe was emptied, she pulled it from his arm and stuffed it into a little biohazard container her mom had obtained for her. She pulled out an adhesive bandage and applied it to the small puncture wound before replacing his haori.

"_Nothing to it_!" She thought, doing a little mental happy dance that she manage to get through this far and keep her head. "_Hurrah, for head having_!"

There was a perfunctory stretch of silence as she gazed at the daiyoukai, waiting for something...anything...to happen. When nothing did, she picked up her things and stuffed them back into her pack. There was really nothing else for her to do but make her hasty exit, head in tact. Then she remembered the flowers her mother had given her. They stuck so innocently out of the top of her bag. Her brows furrowed as she curled her hand around the stems, gently tugging them out. She fingered a petal absently before bringing them to her face. It smelled like the ground just after the rain but before that unpleasant worm odor. Earth. It smelled like earth, like the grave and she stifled a sob.

Barely keeping herself together, she pulled the flowers from their cellophane packaging. She shoved the cellophane deep in her bag. A world weary sigh escaped her lips and she stood slowly but resolutely. She winced as her knees popped from sitting so long. Her feet felt like lead and each step towards Rin's grave just dragged. Eyes glazing over, she became much like the daiyoukai, eyes blinded to all else but that little grave. Her mind was a thousand miles away and it took a minute or two for her to register the sound that came from just behind her. It was a deep, menacing growl that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

Inuyasha had made a similar sound but there was always a hint of humanity in it. She'd never tell him this but when he growled like that it reminded her of her brother, making Godzilla sounds as he played with his action figures. It would have cut the hanyou's pride too deeply. The memory of that sound juxtaposed to the one that came from behind her would have caused her to laugh, had she not been terrified beyond rational thought. This was no human making dog noises. Not even a hanyou making dog noises. Even a dog making dog noises would have been more welcome at this point.

This growl sound very real. Inhumanly so. It felt as if the sound were projected on extra loud speakers because she could swear she heard it reverberating in her chest. A snippet of a nature show she once saw flashed in her mind before winking out. It had been about wolves...or maybe wild dogs. A slo-mo picture of a wolf or some kind of dog skipped through her memory, as it tore its prey's throat out. The ungulate lowed mutely before all the wolves pounced on it, barking and snarling wildly. Except this wasn't on television, where the wolves were safely a world away and she had the distance of the television to protect her. This was right...behind...her. Nothing separated her now. There was no TV tube that was easily turned off. No dashing hanyou in red to save her now. Just herself, the Monk and a very slim hope.


	4. Sleeping in the Flowers

_We could be sleeping in the flowers_

_We could sleep all afternoon_

_You'd proclaim that you're an island_

_I'd proclaim that I'm one too_

_--They Might Be Giants_

Slowly she turned. Very, very slowly, she pivoted on her heel to look back. She didn't want to but she did anyway. There was no stopping morbid curiosity when it reared its ugly head. Her eyes widened in fear and it took a whole helluva lot for her NOT to run screaming. The only thing that kept her rooted to the spot was the FACT that if she ran, his natural instinct would kick in. He _would_ chase her down and he _would_ kill her. Breathing in and out deeply, she held her ground and looked levelly into his eyes.

Wouldn't you know it?

The first reaction he gave and it was this! All of a sudden, the celebratory jig she did in her head moments earlier seemed awfully premature. She no longer just held her ground; she froze in place and prepared for imminent decapitation. He shook with rage, his face twisted into a feral snarl. The growling continued unabated and she could tell that he was moments away from leaping up and liberating her head from her neck. In another extreme force of will, she slowly backed away from Rin's grave. She held her hands up, edging around his shaking form as she tried to keep as much space between them as possible. Kind of an impossible feat, the little cemetery was doing rather brisk business. Being so full of graves that there was barely room to maneuver and only a small path in-between individual spaces.

His eyes followed her the entire time, his lips trembling and flinching to occasionally reveal his fangs. He didn't stop making that awful sound until she was far enough away from Rin's grave for his liking. Which was actually somewhere near the same place she'd been sitting before. For a moment, their eyes met and she could see that he didn't want to attack. He was too tired from fighting the poison and the pain from his wounds.

Just like that, he turned away from her. Cutting off any momentary connection they had as his gaze turned back to Rin's grave. His breathing slowed, his face went slack and he fell back into his more passive, coma-like state. She realized sadly that he was protecting her grave. Her throat tightened as she clutched the flowers more tightly in her hands. Normally, she would have just left, content that she'd done what she could. She have let everyone know that they should steer clear of the cemetery and left it at that. But something inside cried out at that moment, there was more than just physical wounds that needed healing. She wasn't arrogant enough to assume that she could really help him, but she had to try. She'd always tried. Even when it seemed impossible.

Inuyasha's hateful, supercilious brother he might be but Sesshoumaru was grieving. He hurt. He felt pain though he rarely showed it and for that reason...amongst many others...no one had ever bothered to help him. Knowing, perhaps, that he wouldn't accept any help offered. But this time...this time things were different. Kagome felt duty bound to cross that barrier. She'd always been kind of an idiot in that way. Taking paths braver men and women feared to tread. For Rin. She had to do this for Rin. The little girl wouldn't want to see her lord like this. So for Rin's sake, she'd reach out. With uncharacteristic grace, she sat down next to him again.

For an eternity, she said nothing. Not really knowing what she should say. She glanced at Sesshoumaru and then at the grave and felt a gnawing, twisting wail of grief and sadness at the sight. There were so many things not right with this whole situation.

Gazing blankly with the daiyoukai at the grave, she spoke softly, "You really cared for her, didn't you?"

She was kind of glad he didn't answer. Generally, it was a bad idea to point out another's weakness. It was an especially bad idea to point out said weakness to a youkai. An even worse idea to point one out to a daiyoukai, especially one of Sesshoumaru's stature. But she felt safe and a little sad for him that caring about someone was considered a weakness. To her, caring about others had always been a strength. It was her greatest strength; at least, she thought so at the time. Even after all the crap she'd been handed to her afterwards, deep in her heart...she still believed it.

"I bet..." She said, with mock-confidence, "...that Rin really loved flowers. Well...all little girls love flowers...sort of a 'girl' thing...but...well...you know..."

She trailed off, looking down at the bouquet she held in unsteady hands. The brilliant white of the chrysanthemums stood out blindingly in the early morning light. Pure white flowers for a pure soul. Pure white, the same color as Sesshoumaru's hair. Pure white...like death itself...colorless, formless and without description. Tears pricked at her eyes and this time, she let them slide. It was okay to let go now. She'd done what she had to. Holding out the bouquet for inspection, she looked up at the daiyoukai hopefully. Her hands outstretched over his lap, so that all he'd have to do was look down to seem them. But he didn't even look. He didn't move. Just...sat there, staring into nothing. It bothered her. His non-reaction bothered her more and more each and every moment. She couldn't stand it.

"I brought these for Rin." She stated, her voice skirting the edge between tears and firm resolution. "I think she would have liked them."

There was a moment when she faltered. When her voice became hollow and she couldn't find the worlds she wanted to say. Her mouth moved mutely as thoughts and words formed, and she could speak again.

"I was going to put them on her grave. It's...It's sort of a human tradition to do that. You probably don't understand. Being youkai...probably don't experience death the same way. I'm sure you have your own traditions..."

She wasn't really sure where she was going with this, only that she was. A few stray tears slipped from her eyes and trailed down her cheek. She quickly wiped them away, fighting the stuffy nose and the oncoming headache. Too many tears, too much crying and she was so weary. Sighing, she looked to the sky before continuing.

"Putting flowers on a grave is our way to show respect for the dead. Our way of remembering them and showing them that we still care. Silly, I know...but...it's sort of a way to let go too. A way for us to say goodbye and not feel bad for having to go on without them. I guess, you'd understand that..." She rambled on for a few more minutes, quieting as her words petered out, "Then again...maybe not." She shrugged, chewing on the inside of her cheek briefly before speaking again with measured slowness, "Our lives are so short compared to yours. Maybe you don't mourn like we do at all. Maybe you don't go on...Maybe you always remember and never let go...but humans, we have to. Sometimes, living is all you have. Sometimes, seeing the sun one more time is just enough. Sorry...I'm not making much sense...I just...I..." She paused, struggling with her emotions, with her thoughts and her words. She felt so pathetic, useless and utterly defeated in that moment that she just blurted out, "May I please g-give the flowers to Rin? Please?"

She was prepared for him not answering but her heart couldn't take the silence. Closing her eyes, her fingers tightened around the stems again and she drew the bouquet to her chest. Tears fell from beneath her closed lids as she sobbed silently. Inside, she was screaming at him, "_Please, just answer_!" But outside, there were no words she could think of to express what she needed to. It was like she wasn't allowed to think, to feel. As if she'd bottled it up and repressed it, and now it was raking the walls of her heart...and she couldn't do anything but cry.

Something, or rather someone, tugged at the bouquet held in her hands. It was gentle, barely noticeable really, but it was enough to bring her from her sorrowful stupor. She looked up, eyes wide, as she wiped away her tears with a balled fist. The daiyoukai was gazing down at her with his head titled to the side in curiosity. His eyes flickered from her face to the flowers while he lightly touched the stems, the flowers...his fingers skimmed them, as if memorizing their edges. Staring at the bouquet for a moment longer, he lifted his hand and fingered a single petal before setting it down again. His gaze left the flowers, and returned forward. He made a noise somewhere between snort and a grunt before nodding at the grave. She understood he was giving her tacit permission to approach the grave and she was more than just grateful. Not just for the permission but for the reaction as well.

"Thank you." Kagome said breathlessly, managing a low bow despite her current state of overwhelmed awe.

With great reverence, she stood up and approached the grave. Kneeling, she set the bouquet on top of Rin's grave, quickly saying a little prayer over it. She clapped her hands twice and bowed low to pay her final respects to the little girl. After she was finished, Kagome paused then and reached out a slim hand to pluck a single flower from the bouquet. Returning to the spot she'd previously occupied, she glanced at Sesshoumaru. He'd gone all passive again, much to her dismay. This wouldn't do. He couldn't stay like this. It was dangerous. For him and the villagers...she had to do something. Slipping the flower into his hand, she began to think. While she pondered this new conundrum, the flower she's placed in his hand slowly slipped from the daiyoukai's grasp. It had nearly fallen out of his hand until his fingers slowly curled around the delicate stem.

"You know..." She began carefully, turning over her words before speaking, "There are a lot of people in the village who'd like to give Rin flowers too..."

That comment garnered a low growl. It was loud enough to let her know he didn't approve but not so much as to be openly menacing or hostile. Nodding softly, she laid her hand on his, not sure exactly what she hoped to accomplish with the gesture. Maybe she had a death wish but something in her needed him to understand.

"Lord Sesshoumaru...who do you think buried her here? The villagers only wish to pay their respects." She explained quietly, noting that the look on his face darkened considerably.

It seemed he thought the subject closed and did not appreciate her pushing the issue. Kagome sighed, deciding that she'd rather be decapitated than not speak her mind, "I guess there's a lot of stuff you don't understand." His eyes narrowed minutely. He apparently really disapproved of that comment. Kagome realized her error and stuttered out a quick response, "N-N-Not to say that I think...I didn't mean to imply you were ignorant or anything like that...I mean...you know a lot more than any human...but there's stuff about humans you might not...you know...be aware of...being youkai and all."

This seemed to pacify him or at least it placated him enough for him to ignore the slight. Either way, she was still alive, which all in all was good. Kagome being the person she was, decided to push the envelope.

"Even so, Humans and demons aren't that different I think. We might experience it a different way but death affects us all. Losing someone dear to you is kind of universal. I mean, youkai might live a lot longer than humans but they can still die. No one is exempt." She said, going quiet as her thoughts sunk in before continuing more quietly than before, "I think what makes this harder is that Rin was just a kid. She was so young. She was innocent. She didn't...S-she didn't deserve to die." She paused, her voice too shaky to continue but still she plodded on, unable to speak in anything more than a whisper, "It's not fair..."

A breeze wafted through the trees at that moment, creating a sense of serenity that punctuated the sorrow of the moment. She felt herself crumbling again, dissolving into a puddle of tears that would drown the world if she let them. It wasn't just Rin she mourned for. There were so many reasons for her feelings on that day, too many to list, but they were all brought forward at that moment. The girl's death was just the catalyst. She let the tears fall, crying for every reason under the sun until her sorrow was spent. Kagome took several calming breaths, allowing herself to gather some semblance of control. After ten minutes, she felt it was safe to speak again. She had to get this out, if she didn't...if she'd didn't, she wasn't sure what she'd do...

"I know you don't think much of humans. I understand, I really do. I get it. But Rin was human. Just like me, just like the people in this village. Not all humans are evil and stupid. You can't base your opinion on the worst of our kind. Just like humans can't base our opinion of youkai on the worst of your kind. There are good people in this world and bad people and people in between. My point is...the people in this village are good, decent people. They took good care of Rin, even though they had no obligation to her. " She said this in one long breath, her eyes locked on some distant point in the horizon as she tried to keep her thoughts organized. "They saw to it she was put to rest properly...observing all the right rituals and ceremonies. They even made a shrine for her, so that her spirit will never be forgotten."

Kagome waited for a moment to let all of that sink in, holding back her hair as the breeze continually pushed it into her face. He didn't react but she knew intuitively that he had heard, moreover, he'd actually listened and understood what she was trying to convey.

Encouraged, she continued, "None of us knew her like you did but we still care. What happened wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Please, let the village to continue to honor her."

Sesshoumaru had remained quiet during her entire speech, and she waited patiently for some kind of answer. Nothing came and she felt her frustration grow. She really, really, REALLY wanted to shake the hell out of him, just to get a reaction out of him again. Sure, he'd probably make with the head decapitaties but at this point she didn't care. Kagome barely managed to suppress the urge but it still bothered her. Even his haughty disdain for all things human would be preferable to this. Tilting her chin up, she looked straight at him with vicious resolve.

"Sesshoumaru..." She began, deliberately leaving off his title, "The villagers have taken care of her and will continue to do so. As long as it is your wish...as long as you allow it. But they can't DO that if they're scared to pieces that you'll attack them. I give you my word. No harm will come to Rin ever again."

His eyes narrowed as the words sunk in. Her hand still lay on top of his as she looked up at him. His head turned imperceptibly, eyes flickering from her hand to her face. Kagome felt a sharp intake of fear and something else at having his red-eyed gaze turned on her like that. It was a bit unnerving and made her conscious of the fact that despite the fact that he looked human, he was a demon. No. No, she wouldn't shy away. She wouldn't be afraid. Determined now, she met his gaze unflinchingly. She had expected many reactions that day but none of them included what he actually did.

The flower fell from his hand suddenly and his fingers curled around her own. She jumped, alarmed by the abruptness of this most intimate gesture. Her mind went into a temporary freeze, made worse by what he did next. His hand let go of hers as he took hold of her wrist and with a quick yank, he pulled her into his lap. Her eyes went wide and she let out a startled little yelp. She trembled, looking up at the youkai who held her with stark, abject fear. What was he doing? He leaned down then, pressing his face to her neck and thereby increasing her confusion ten fold. What was going on? She was being embraced...sitting in the lap of...with his neck pressing against her face...Her mind hiccupped and she blinked several times before her mind came back on track. She was doing all that with Sesshoumaru. The deadliest youkai she knew, youkai who had tried to kill her on more than one occasion. A youkai who hated humans. He was holding her...He could tear her in half and he was holding her. Holding her but making no move to do anything but that. It was like her mind wasn't prepared to process the information at hand. Kagome knew it then. It was official. The world had gone insane and it had taken her with it.

He held her very closely and she became more uncomfortable with each minute that stretched before her. She had tried to squirm away and he growled. It was deep and low in his throat but she could feel it against the skin on her neck. Could feel his breath as he exhaled and it chilled her inside and out. She froze as his face dipped down to her neck again, feeling as if she'd turned to ice. The constant urge to jerk away was overwhelming. Heart hammering in her chest, she trembled violently as she tried to understand what the hell was going on. Kagome closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She had to be calm. Had to be calm. Her body relaxed slightly, so that the tremors that racked it lessened. Opening her eyes, she lightly pressed her hands to his chest and turned her head. She couldn't see his eyes, as his head was buried in her neck. All that she could see was his ear, the elegant arch of his neck and his hair.

Taking care to remember his sensitive hearing, she whispered tremulously, "S-Se-Sesshoumaru...What're you d-doing?"

As she spoke, she pulled away slightly, trying to get a good look at him. Apparently, he didn't like this as he gave her a curt little bark, pulling her closer to him. Against her will, she was pressed to his chest now and unable to do anything else but submit to it. She was feeling more alarmed by the moment. Uncertain of what he was doing and how she could get out of this situation. She just sat there, her fingers unconsciously grasping the loose silk of his haori. His face pressed in more closely to her neck and she let out a little gasp, which she quickly stifled.

His cheek suddenly brushed against hers. All that she registered was the sudden flash of magenta as it passed her eyes and the warm feeling as his flesh pressed against hers...ever so lightly. He gently nudged her head with his own before rubbing his cheek against hers again. Doing this a few more times, he stopped abruptly to press his face against her neck once more. He inhaled deeply and when he exhaled, his breath brushed against the fine hairs on her neck. Involuntarily, she shivered and she could feel the goose pimples tickling underneath her skin. Instinctively, she shied away from the feelings this evoked. This was wrong. Very, very wrong...for so many reasons and all of them frightened her. The urge to flee overwhelmed her. Kagome couldn't fight it any longer. This was wrong, all wrong and she wanted to get away, wanted him to let her go. She began to struggle against his grip, knowing the whole time it was futile. But she had to. Couldn't he see? Why was he doing this?

Her hands let go of his haori and she pressed against his chest, trying to gain some leverage against him. To no avail. His grip on her was like iron and to make matters worse her struggles only gained another low growl from him. The growling became continuous when she didn't give up and finally transformed into an out and out snarl. It was a vicious sound, a dangerous sound which was accompanied by the feeling of his claws digging into her arm. She immediately ceased moving, staying frozen where she was.

"_I don't want to be here_." She whispered within herself, praying to whatever god that would listen to make him let her go.

Kagome closed her eyes and bit her lip as she tried her best to not touch him. It was impossible, but she tried all the same. The daiyoukai didn't care either way. He seemed somewhat pleased she stopped moving and had stopped growling the minute she'd accepted her place. His head nudged hers again and he continued his inspection unabated, content that there would be no further struggle on her part.

For Kagome, all she could do was endure whatever it was he was doing, hoping distantly that she'd make it out in one piece. She licked her lips, trying to shut out all sensation...which wasn't working. He was nuzzling her. That was the only way to describe it and it was infinitely unnerving. Not only because he was a practical stranger but because he was Sesshoumaru. Because he was terrifying, not only for who he was but for what he was. Because he was Inuyasha's brother, who'd tried to kill her and her friends numerous times. Because his name, his visage was synonymous with untimely death and until recently, her feelings towards him had included fear, terror, and general sense of malaise. Because now after seeing that look in his eyes those old feelings kind of...disappeared and were replaced by slightly more sympathetic feelings. Because this felt like betrayal...even if it wasn't really. Kagome felt her mind become dull and hazy. She could feel his lips and his nose graze the skin on her neck occasionally. It sent shivers up and down her spine, and she'd convinced her mind that it was fear. For it to be anything else was madness. Sometimes he'd venture into her hair, inhaling deeply as he buried himself in it. It was like...It was as if he was looking for something. At first, she stayed still because she was afraid of what she'd do if she didn't. Now she stayed still because she was curious. What the hell was this all about anyway?

Eventually, he stopped his restless searching and narrowed in on a spot just behind her ear. With mechanical slowness, he lavished attention on that particular spot. He nudged the area with his nose, pressing his face in so close and with such force that she had no choice but to tilt her head to relieve the pressure on her neck. A queer little whine escaped her throat that sounded like a boiling tea kettle if it sucked in a balloon-full of helium. The noise didn't seem to bother the daiyoukai because he didn't stop doing whatever it was he was doing. Kagome bit her lip to stop the sound, not really succeeding. It really tickled.

That and the whole absurdity of the situation made it very hard for Kagome NOT to burst out into hysterical peals of laughter. What made it worse was every time he nudged her, he seemed to inhale deeply through both his nose and mouth. It made a slight but noticeable sound that reminded her of Buyo when he was intently sniffing the floor for whatever reasons he sniffed the floor for. Apparently, Sesshoumaru and her pet cat had something in common. "_Maybe I should take him home and they could go bowlin'_..."That thought didn't help much and she stifled a giggle by biting down on her tongue...hard. "_Think logically, Kagome. Think logical. Logical. Not working. Crap! Tickles so much..._"

And then it suddenly came to her. He WAS like her cat, an idea which made absolute sense and was utterly hilarious at the same time. She wondered then if a dog demon would be insulted if compared to a rather rotund feline kept as a pet by a human.

Kagome turned the idea over in her head before thinking to herself quietly, "_Yea-a-a-a-a-ah, probably_."

She shook her head and turned her mind to things that'd actually help her survive all this. As opposed to those thoughts that caused her to laugh, thereby shortening her life. This was no time to make a laughter related faux pas. He was _sniffing_ her. It wasn't like this was the first time something like this happened. Kouga and Inuyasha had done something similar once, though they weren't quite as thorough or as insistent as Sesshoumaru was. Nor did they invade her personal space quite as badly, which was funny in a vaguely ironic but not technically ironic way. Shippou would sometimes get like this though, especially when he was sad or afraid. Narrowing her eyes, she slowly formed a large mental 'NO' at that idea. The very idea that Sesshoumaru would come to her like Shippou would was grossly ridiculous. Well, he _was_ sad...No, no, no...She didn't want to venture into Sesshoumaru's reasoning for sniffing her right now. Even so, the idea had merit. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his more instinctual nature had taken control. Maybe this was some kind of...youkai...mourning thing that she wasn't aware of. Either way, it was weird.

She wasn't really sure what the sniffing accomplished. She'd never really understood the whole demon obsession/preoccupation with scent. Then again, her sense of smell wasn't that acute and she didn't regularly use it for much of anything. It was hardly a human's primary way of gathering information, nor was it the most important. However, she guessed that for demons it must be pretty damn important. None of the demons she knew personally had been able to explain it to her in any depth. Kouga and Shippou were dear friends but a tad lacking in the area of communicating feelings effectively. Or at least in a way that was easily understandable and made sense.

From the little she learned about the subject, scent apparently told them a lot about other people...beings...animals, whatever. According to the 'OH-so helpful' information she'd gleaned from Kouga and Shippou, a demon could detect subtle hormone changes in someone's scent. Some very strong emotions caused specific biochemical reactions in the body. She got that part from one of her old high school text books. Apparently, those changes caused a slight change in scent and therefore it made said changes detectable. This was used by most youkai to determine the health and well being of a friend...or an enemy. Anger, for instance, induced the production of Adrenaline. Sadness and depression is caused by low levels of Serotonin. Happiness and feelings of love and sexual attraction caused the production of Endorphins. There was more to it, of course. But Kouga and Shippou had been unable or unwilling to explain any further, stating rather helpfully that she was human and therefore would NOT understand.

In any event, it was hardly a perfect system but it was a rather good gauge to base certain assumptions on. In this way, truth could be told from lies but like a polygraph test, it wasn't something you relied too heavily on. Especially when dealing with other youkai, who would have finer control over their physical reactions. Humans, however, rarely had such control and she knew that scenting them was common practice amongst most youkai. Even the most practiced liar fears the detection of their mendacity. It was a human trait--to fear and fear held a firmer grip on a human trying to lie to a youkai.

Maybe that was what this was all about. Kagome was confused then and a little perturbed, and very definitely angry. But she couldn't blame him. He hadn't gotten to where he was without being overly paranoid and her reaction hadn't instilled much trust. If she'd known what he was doing sooner maybe she'd have...done better or something. As it was, she knew now and so she relaxed herself as much as she could. Within a few breaths, her fear melted away and a great deal of her nervousness went with it. This situation was as strange as it was embarrassing but she had no real reason to be afraid. If this were some kind of goofy assed youkai truth test, then so be it. She would endure it as long as she could. Not like she could go anywhere anyway.

Kagome sighed in resignation and tried to get comfortable without touching him too much. Again, an impossibility but she tried none-the-less. Her hands rested lightly on his chest and she wasn't content with it at all. She was less content when she pressed her forehead into his chest and yet she willingly turned her head a bit. Giving him full access to the scent that apparently fascinated him so much that he'd spent the last ten to fifteen minutes with his head buried there...nose to her neck. Once more, she struggled with her emotions, being somewhere between frustration and out right amusement at her current plight. But she sat through it all, uncomplaining as ever, like the good little trooper she was. She wondered if there were a hidden camera somewhere and if there was, she'd like to know when the host of the show would jump out and yell "SURPRISE!" Because all of this...whatever it was...was freaking her out. Seriously.

He inhaled...as he was wont to and she sighed, her cheeks growing red as she finally came to realize the sensitive nature of the situation she was in. Up to now, this had been alternately terrifying, frustrating, stupefying and embarrassing. It hadn't really occurred to her with real clarity the situation she was in until now. If Miroku were to stumble upon this scene at this precise moment it would look like...like she was caught in flangrante delicto with Sesshoumaru and it was a place she didn't want to be. Plus, it REALLY didn't help that his lips kept brushing against her neck and the fact that it kind of felt...nice...was bothersome. And she blushed all the harder. How did she get herself into these situations? Cursing her own stupidity, she began to meditate just as Miroku and Kaede had taught her. It was a thousand times better than thinking about Sesshoumaru and his lips...amongst other things.

Closing her eyes, she slowed her breathing and focused on the empty black of her mind. She cleared out everything else that could distract her. Sesshoumaru, the world around her and her own errant thoughts were forgotten and wiped away as she concentrated on being blank and without thought. It had taken her awhile to be able to do this but over time it had become easier. Soon, she was surrounded by the swirling well of purple light that was her power. In her mind, it looked like a small glowing sphere surrounded by spiraling waves of holy light that moved in and out of the sphere. Crashing against it like the sea as it battered the shore.

When she first had experience this vision, that power seemed untamed. It had looked to her then like the ocean during a mid-day storm, beautifully violent and utterly uncontrollable, frightening in its intensity. Kaede had told her that everything in this world has two natures. Yin and Yang. The more violent side of her power was representative of her Yang aspect. It was active and bright. As she trained and gained more control, the brighter aspect of her power dimmed somewhat. So much so that it seemed like the ocean on a flat winter night. When the water was so still that you could barely tell the moon from its reflection. This was the Yin aspect of her power. The passive and dark side. And once she'd seen for herself each aspect of her power, Kaede had shown her how to meld them together. Because you can't have one without the other, there must always be a balance between the two. The light leads darkness and darkness follows light.

Things had gotten all wonky now because she was upset about a great many things. Stress tended to cause imbalance in one's aura and so now she had plenty of time to straighten it all out. Focusing in on the knitted sphere of power within her, she forced the fingers of her mind outward. Stirring the waters and calming them all at once until her aura settled. The ribbons of light around the sphere calmed and became like the tide again. Pulsing in regular, rhythmic waves. She let it cocoon around her consciousness, enveloping her in a warmth all her own. All problems had effectively melted away. Within herself, she was allowed to be a peace. This was a place where she didn't have to be Kagome or Kikyo or anyone or anything. She was warm and safe...and happy. Free from all the annoying... _poink_...and aggravating..._poinkpoink_...things that..._poink__...poinkpoink...poinkpoinkpoink... 'DAMN IT! Of all the--'_

Something was pushing against the calm well of power that surrounded her. It pricked her senses and pulled her out of the tranquil lull she'd relaxed herself into. Her mind's eye opened and searched for the thing that was audacious enough to break the peace she'd strived so hard to find. It wasn't hard. There was nothing but her aura and it. And it was very different than her. This aura was bright, much brighter than her own. It was so much like hers but so very different all at once. If she could give it form it would be gold in color and liquid in nature, smelling a bit like freshly cut flowers. Not like the perfume that said it smelled like flowers but didn't. Not at all like a rose...no, this smell wasn't so showy and self-important. It was fresh...like a lily or a silently blooming orchid. It was subtle...It felt like...it felt like springtime, when everything was new and straining against the yoke of frozen winter. Absurdly, her mind came up with the image of an overeager dog stretching at its leash as it was taken for its first walk after the thaw. The image seemed to fit, no matter how undignified it seemed.

Her aura flared suddenly as the alien aura in gold tested the waters again. The sacred power within her spiked, sensing that this other aura was a danger. This aura was its opposite in every way. This aura didn't belong and the holy power tensed, waiting for the go ahead to purify what endangered the one it served. She held it back, because the gold aura seemed somewhat familiar. It skirted at the edge of the water, teasingly coiling itself around her aura before letting go. This was curious. Normally when another's aura invaded your own it was usually sent in to attack. To break you and leave you defenseless. It was never a playful or gentle thing. It never teased. It broke in and destroyed, but this aura...whoever sent it in wasn't there to hurt or destroy. Perhaps to test...yes, it seemed like an inquiry. But why? Very curious indeed.

She decided to push back to see what happened. The gold aura pushed, she pushed back. Immediately, the gold aura seemed to back off. Seemingly cautious of what she could do to it. Curiouser and curiouser. She sent out a tendril of power and it recoiled like a nervous dog. It was skittish and only wanted to approach when it felt comfortable. She formed a hand in her mind and held it out. The gold aura formed itself into the dog she imagined it to be, though whether this was for her benefit, she wasn't sure. Her hand held out, she let the dog come to her as the vision solidified. Until it wasn't just formless ripples of incandescent power, but almost like a cut scene ripped from a movie reel. Like a dream given breath and life. She could see herself and she could see the dog quite clearly. One waiting on the other, seeing who'd break first. She sat on her haunches, content to wait for him and he stood warily across from her. Eyeing her suspiciously it seemed, like he was waiting for her kindness to be revealed as cruelty. She smiled softly. Silly dog.

She held her hand out farther, stretching her fingers out so that he could see she meant him no harm. 'Come on...it's okay...' she whispered to it, her voice high-pitched and sweet. It echoed effervescently in the blank nowhere of her inner eye. Her power rippled and pulled back according to its mistress's will. It became the gentle sea, loving and deep. Shushing in and out quietly like a comfortable old lullaby. The dog sensed this and tentatively stepped forward. 'Yeah, it's okay...Come on...' She sang to it, wiggling her fingers in encouragement. The dog's tail wagged and it padded just a bit closer. She smiled wider then, turning her hand over so that her palm faced outward...no longer just beckoning him. It was a gesture of acceptance; she wanted him to come closer. His tail wagged a bit more brightly and he closed the gap. Her smile widened as the dog came up and sniffed her hand cautiously, his imaginary tail wagging the entire time. She didn't move, because she wanted to make sure he was comfortable with her first. Couldn't just start petting a dog that didn't trust you yet, now could you?

His wet nose snuffled against her palm and then her wrist. The dog looked up at her then, with eyes far too intelligent for your average canine. It gave one last sniff at her wrist before quietly licking her palm. The priestess smiled just as quietly and set her hand on his head. She scratched behind his ears, ruffling the fur on his head before she began to pet him. The dog closed his eyes momentarily before sitting down. It looked up at her with wan gold eyes, flinching a little when her fingers accidentally grazed a small wound on the junction between his shoulder blades and his neck. Kagome could see it then. A dark miasma that surrounded the dog, all centering upon this small wound and before she could really register the meaning, the vision began to fall apart. But not before she noticed that the gold aura that was the dog and her own had firmly intertwined. The bright gold aura pushed against her again and she was momentarily overwhelmed by the scent of flowers and springtime. Breathing in deeply, she broke from the dream with a lingering tingle of power in her fingertips. Something nagged at her, something familiar. Something that felt...a demonic aura was near and her eyes flew open. She glanced up at the demon that held her, knowing in her heart of hearts that the invading aura had come from him.

The aura that smelt like springtime and flowers came from Sesshoumaru and she swallowed hard. She was halfway between open awe and indignant fear. What kind of game was he playing anyway? His aura pushed against hers again one final time. The sensation was slightly uncomfortable but strangely intoxicating and she closed her eyes as it ran through her body. It tingled slightly, sending an shiver of pleasure that rippled from nerve to nerve like a soft ocean wave. Defying all logic and reason, she felt his demonic aura coil around hers again. The opposing powers fought for dominance briefly before finding a tenuous middle ground. And finding that balance, they slowly intertwined. Bright tendrils of purple wrapped around bright gold, reminding the priestess of midsummer fireworks. Popping and exploding brilliantly as they screamed heavenward, lighting the midnight sky in gaudy Technicolor glory.

It shouldn't be this way. The demonic and the holy couldn't exist in such exquisite equilibrium. Since the dawn of time they'd fought. Kaede had told her so. There hadn't been peace between humanity and demons for as long as anyone could remember. Not even the oldest youkai could remember a time when it was different. So how could it be? The gift the gods gave to protect humanity. The gift of purification should have destroyed, or attempted to destroy the invading demonic aura. And the power of a youkai, though not dark by design, it was the very opposite of the power given to humanity. It should have sought to obliterate the light and yet, it didn't. They intertwined so easily it seemed. Initial resistance aside, they seemed to compliment each other. As if. As if.

Before Kagome could complete the thought, the demonic aura receded. Extricating itself from her aura slowly as if it didn't wish to leave. For a moment, she felt a fleeting pain that wasn't her own. It seemed to echo from the gold aura that left her. A dark tendril of disease tainted the gold, sucking the brilliance from it. It hurt so much. It was a stabbing pain, impaling every nerve individually and she had to grit her teeth to relieve the agony as it wracked her body. With a gasp, the feeling left her as the gold aura slipped away quickly and quietly. Her eyes widened as she stared forward blindly. If the gold aura was Sesshoumaru, then the dark tendril must be the poison. The small amount of pain she felt was only a fraction of what Sesshoumaru was feeling.

Kagome sat there in stunned silence.

She blinked her eyes into open reality, trying her best to apprehend the significance of what had just happened. Because it was significant. The last few moments had changed everything for her and she wasn't quite sure how or in what way. It was like trying to catch smoke. She grasped for it and her mind met nothing but empty air. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't place the feeling but she accepted the knowledge of it. Some_how_, some_thing_ had been unalterably changed.

Staring at the plain white of his haori, she gripped the garment unconsciously. With awareness dulled by her former dreamlike state, she realized where she was, which only heightened the sense of transformation within herself. During her meditations, she'd relaxed into his embrace and he into hers. She now leaned against him most comfortably; her head nestled into the crook of his neck. His head rested on her own and she could occasionally feel the puff of his breath whisper through her hair. She gasped in shock, nearly hyperventilating in embarrassment. Her cheeks immediately broke out in a bright red blush. The color was complimented by the heat in them as her mortification over this situation was well and truly complete.

Despite this, she didn't dare move, remembering quite well his previous reactions to such an action. Instead, she endured as best she could. His attentions to her had ceased and he no longer probed at her neck and hair. Evidently, he was content to just hold her for a few minutes longer. Or so she thought. He nuzzled her neck one final time, leaning in close to her ear...close enough to just brush the sensitive shell with his lips. She suppressed a shiver as she wondered what he might do next. He was so very unpredictable. She imagined a hundred thousand things he might do and again, she was left surprised at his actual reaction. He spoke to her for the first time in as many days. In such a low and unconsciously seductive tone, that she would remember the way he sounded days...years...afterward. She'd memorized the tenor of his voice, and the slight emphasis he placed on each syllable.

"Agreed." He said simply.

And though said in an entirely expressionless tone, in it could be read a subtle palate of emotion. It was hidden and inscrutable in nature, but there all the same. She was confused by a great many things, though in the forefront of her mind was what he meant by 'Agreed'. What was he agreeing to? Then she remembered that she'd tried to secure the village's safety. It was the whole reason she was in this precarious and embarrassing situation in the first place. He'd agreed to allow the villagers to visit Rin's grave without fear of censure...or imminent decapitation. It was a wonderful turn of events and all of her discomfiture over her current predicament vanished. She looked up into the demon's face with a genuinely grateful smile. He didn't react in the least and had continued his solemn vigil. Undeterred, she was just about to actually thank him when he unceremoniously tossed her off his lap.

She landed hard on the ground, skidding a bit before she stopped. Her backside had grated against a rock and was likely to bruise quite badly. Already, it was bleeding through the light cotton of her jogging pants. It was a stroke of luck that she'd decided to wear the black pair, rather than the light grey. She didn't feel like explaining the cut on her ass anytime soon. Especially to Miroku, who WOULD notice it. The wounds on her hands and arms wouldn't be as easy to conceal, much less explain away. Pushing herself off the ground, she examined her abraded flesh, taking in the damage and trying to form in her mind a likely excuse for them. Pouting, she decided that her best bet was to blame her natural clumsiness and hope that Miroku bought it.

She shrugged in resignation as she gathered her things and stood up. Scowling at the demon who was the cause of her injuries, both mental and physical, she gave him the figurative raspberry. He didn't have to go and do that. She hadn't wanted to be in his lap in the first place and had made that fact abundantly clear. He'd been the one who'd been so insistent and then he had the gall to toss her off like a sack of potatoes. The least he could have done was set her down gently if her presence was that unwanted. Or better yet, he could have avoided the problem altogether by not tugging her onto his lap in the first place like a big ol' grabby-pants. Or...or he could have just asked her to get up, like a normal, polite person. True, he wasn't a person in the strictest definition of the word, but most demons had something approaching manners...and he was noble born to boot. So he should have known better. The jerk.

She grumbled inwardly while she checked for further injuries. Finding none, she shouldered her pack and prepared to leave. Bowing low, she quietly thanked the demon lord and turned to make a hasty exit. As usual, he said nothing but this time she felt no pang of sympathy for him or at least, she tried very hard not to. Her ass hurt. Her brain hurt. And it was all his fault. She was sick to death of this strange situation and the weird feelings it brought up. The change she felt in herself and her relationship to Sesshoumaru made her feel uncomfortable. Yes, that was part of the change in herself. There was something between them now. Something that wasn't there before, a tenderness in her regard for him that had recently bloomed. It was disconcerting and she could only wonder how this would change things within her group. Because, to her, it would have to change. There was no question in her mind.

Kagome shook her head. She didn't want to think about it anymore. She needed to be away. Turning, she was about to be just that...away. Just as she started to walk away, she felt a violent tug at her wrist that caused her to stumble back. She barely managed to catch herself before she fell. It was only by luck that she didn't end up kissing the ground. She stiffened, turning to gaze at the daiyoukai with eyes blazing with anger. The nerve! There was a sudden surge of outraged fear at the way he played with her. Grieving or not, that wasn't an excuse to mess with people's minds like this. By the grace of the gods alone, she held her tongue.

"You will return." He stated monotonously, as if it were an undisputed fact.

"Of course, " She replied tersely through her teeth, "Lord Sesshoumaru."

She had used his title with as much derision she could muster without seeming insensitive or callous. Despite the sarcasm in her reply, he seemed satisfied and let her go. His hand slipped from her wrist languorously. For a horribly stifling moment, his hand slipped around hers. His long fingers curling around her own, which seemed chubby and graceless when compared to his finer ones. She swallowed hard, having to remind herself to breathe when his thumb began tracing circles on the back of her hand. He squeezed once before finally breaking the contact, much to her relief. She snatched her hand back, holding it up to her chest as if afraid he might make a grab for it again. He didn't notice, his attention was now solely focused on Rin's grave and nothing short of the end of the world would divert it. She watched his hand fall limply into his lap and noticed with startled fascination as he wavered a bit. The tranquilizers were doing their work and had finally hit his system. She could tell he was struggling against them, trying to maintain what little control he had.

"Don't fight it." She said softly, giving him a look of pained confusion.

He turned slightly to regard her, staring up at her with blood glazed eyes. Her brow crinkled as she noticed for the first time that they looked a bit lighter than before. When she'd first come into the cemetery, his eyes had been a dark red, almost black. Now, they were a bright crimson. Frowning, she wondered what it could mean. He tilted his head slightly before turning away again. The moment remained broken and she left, but not before giving him one last, long glance.

She had tried to walk away calmly and had managed to do so until she hit the ten foot marker she'd noted before. Once she reached that internal marker, she walked a bit faster, her legs carrying her into a gentle but panicked trot. The further she got away from Sesshoumaru, the greater the impact of the morning's events had on her. Soon she was all out running and she didn't stop until she reached the entrance to the cemetery where she left Miroku. She nearly collapsed into the monk's arms upon exiting it, shaking and out of breath.

At first, Miroku had been concerned that something really terrible had happened. Truthfully, something had but there was no clear way to articulate it. And if there was, the subject was far to embarrassing for her to discuss anyway. After she caught her breath, she explained to him as plainly as she could all that had occurred. Minus the parts that dealt with the weird, uncomfortable moments she spent in his lap. Not like she was overeager to try and explain Sesshoumaru's strange behavior towards her. And her even stranger feelings that were the result of his behavior.

The rest of the day was spent quietly trying to forget the morning. Kagome managed to busy herself while the rest of the village took their turns visiting Rin's grave. It was an important end to the funeral rite and many in the village had been terrified it wouldn't be observed because of the daiyoukai's intrusion. Everyone was overjoyed when they found that the young priestess had effectively solved the situation. Still, Kaede and Miroku had to spend most of their time shuttling villagers in and out of the cemetery. Even though they knew the priestess had pacified the daiyoukai, they were still appropriately wary of him. The drugs apparently had done their job well, as Miroku had reported that Sesshoumaru appeared to be asleep. He expressed his renewed awe of the medicine from her home world and his general awe of her. Kagome felt uncomfortable with the praise, but accepted it gratefully. Though she'd hoped it'd be the only bit of homage paid, it wasn't. Praises from Miroku and Kaede were welcome, because they were her friends and she lived to please them. But from the rest of the village...it made her even less comfortable. She knew most of the villagers by name, but it wasn't like she knew each and every one of them intimately. And their praise wasn't the kind one friend gave to another. It was the kind of praise someone who thought themselves unworthy gave to a superior. They praised her like a votary praised their god. She didn't like the implications of their compliments. It was too much like worship, given far too obsequiously for her to truly accept it without a bit of revulsion.

Yet, such worship couldn't be helped. Even if she hadn't come from the future, she was an extraordinary girl in more ways than one. Her subduing of the daiyoukai hadn't been that remarkable, but for the fact that she'd actually done it. To kill a youkai was one thing; in fact, it was something any ordinary priest or priestess should be able to accomplish. Even with no spiritual power whatsoever, killing a youkai was no special task. To bend a youkai to your will took a formidable amount of skill that most humans lacked. Some spiritual power was, of course, necessary for such a task but even with tremendous power most normal priests and priestesses could only manage to subdue the weakest youkai. To subdue a daiyoukai, that took a level of strength and power that no human could possibly have. Yet, their priestess had. And she'd done no more than treat him kindly and with respect, solving the situation without resorting to violence or an obscene show of power...In fact, she hadn't really subdued him at all but rumors began to fly abundantly, despite her pleasantly reminding anyone who'd listen of the actual facts. The truth was soon muddied and Kagome gave up. Letting third and fourth hand accountings of the events and gossip take over. She was too tired to protest.

The rumor mill worked overtime and soon, it was whispered amongst the village that she'd subdued the daiyoukai without the help of a spell. It was sort of true anyway. The accounts deviated from there as more details of her awesome spiritual power came into play. Soon, in terms of the story, she became some kind of pure instrument of Buddha. Hovering over the daiyoukai divinely as she instructed him in the dharma, showing him the light as it were...with lasers. Well, more like rays of brilliant, goddess-like light...which equaled lasers in her mind but that was beside the point. It was blatantly not true. Worse, people started to stuff offerings into her hands...or leaving them at her door. Giving her gifts she didn't need, couldn't use and didn't want. No matter.

They'd done the same for the daiyoukai apparently. According to Kaede, Rin's grave was awash with flowers, as was the daiyoukai who protected it. Miroku and Kaede had watched the day's events with bemused wonder. Kagome was a unique young lady and it was always amusing to watch her deal with the reverence she so clearly deserved but always graciously refused. She was far too humble for her own good. Miroku, in particular, was generally amazed by the effect Kagome had on the daiyoukai. If it had been the first time she'd done this, he'd have been a bit surprised but not overly impressed by it. The fact was, she'd had the same effect time and time again. The girl had an uncanny knack for soothing the savage beast.

He didn't believe for a moment that the tranquilizers were the only thing keeping Sesshoumaru in line. Yes, the medicine worked well. The youkai lord was dulled in perception and very often it was obvious that he was asleep. But Sesshoumaru wasn't as subdued as much as he wanted them to believe. There was something amiss and the entire day, he'd been trying to pinpoint it. Kaede had felt it as well, though she didn't speak it out loud. Her uncertainty was contained in her every manner. Particularly when he caught her gaze, the look in her solitary eye painted a picture of reserved caution and questions that lacked answers. Later tonight, he reckoned there would be a very long, private discussion between them.

This feeling of wrongness and barely sheltered mystery pervaded the day. It wasn't until Kagome came near sundown that the two feelings coalesced and he became certain where they had come from. The younger priestess was uncommonly nervous as she approached the daiyoukai and she'd practically begged Miroku to stay with her. And suddenly, it all clicked. The puzzle was solved. Something had happened between the daiyoukai and Kagome. More than just words. The wounds on her arms and hands were evidence of that. He was inclined to believe her story of tripping on a grave stone hidden in the dirt. And though her nervousness meshed with her earlier reaction, it seemed quite a bit stronger than before. He felt it in his gut. She wasn't afraid of him attacking. She wasn't afraid of a fight or battle. It was fear of something else entirely. Being an ardent admirer of the fairer sex, this fear came with being a young woman who was naive of her own feelings. She was afraid to be alone with the daiyoukai, because something had passed between them. Something that made her very uncomfortable in his presence. He wasn't sure what it was or what was said, if it was said at all. Whatever had happened, it had bought them time and assured the village's safety. And she had sacrificed her comfort to do so.

He watched her silently as she tended to the demon lord. Noting with a smile as she complained about this, that and the other thing or just babbled any thought that came to mind by random whim. Rather than concentrating on her charge, she was trying to divert her own attention. His thought was interrupted as she wondered out loud at Sesshoumaru sleeping upright.

"How can he sleep, sitting like that? It's unnatural..." She commented, mostly to herself.

Miroku gave a pleasant chuckle as a reply, keeping his suspicions from his eyes as he watched the demon wake under her touch. Yes, he wasn't entirely taken down by the drugs. His eyes fluttered open long enough to register that she was there before they carefully closed. Miroku had watched vigilantly and noticed with great surprise that the effects of the poison had been diminished. It was impossible. Once Kindoku was introduced into the system, there was no way to be rid of it except for the Gyosei cure and the only way to slow the poison...His eyes widened in realization. There was a little known ritual attached to the cure for Kindoku poisoning that could be used to halt the poison's effects in the later stages. His father had told him of it when he was still alive and knowing his father, there was only one way he'd have known it but the girl's reaction coupled with the slowing of the poison pointed to one and only one possibility. He would definitely talk with Kaede tonight.

Looking from the daiyoukai to Kagome, his mind was filled with troubled thought. The girl seemed to draw youkai to her side like moths to a flame. It was strange to watch the almost instant transformation she wrought on them. Whether it was the almost instant dislike most youkai took to her. Or the not-so-rare instances of gradual but loyal attachment. They were attracted to her innocence and purity. His father had told him that beings born of darkness often envy the light, seeking to either destroy it or make it their own. He wasn't sure into which category Sesshoumaru fell. But what rang true in his mind was that she was in many ways, very much like a youkai. Only instead of being born of nature's darker parts, she was its light. Its love. Its life. She was a child of nature, completely attuned to the universe, so much so that she didn't even notice her own unconscious observance of its rules. She protected life and the earth as viciously as its supposed guardians. The very youkai who thought her so inferior, who saw her as mere human--but he had never felt Kagome to be entirely human. She was _too_ pure. He could see it. She was the essence of the living dharma, Buddha's teachings in the flesh.

Kagome civilized the uncivil without lifting a finger. She'd tamed Kouga and his wolf tribe. They were now unerringly loyal to her and only her. A feat no other human could boast. As disagreeable as Inuyasha could be, she'd tamed his coarse nature as well. Turning him from a feral and dangerous foe, to a rather grumpy but steadfast companion in arms. She'd helped him gain greater control of his powers over his sword and his own blood. Not to mention little Shippou in whose eyes, she could do no wrong. He wondered then, what exactly had passed between Sesshoumaru and Kagome...he wondered and he worried.

Her kindness knew no bias. There were no impassable lines between youkai and human. She crossed that barrier with no trouble and little regard. There were no bounds to her kindness, and it was given with such unnatural selflessness to deem it almost divine. During the tenure of their friendship, he'd often wondered if such kindness was a gift or a curse. Watching the girl as she gently tended to the youkai lord, he had to admit...It was a gift, a worrisome gift but a gift none-the-less. Her power resided in her kindness. It was a beautiful thing to behold. Surpassing the worry in his heart. Yes, it was a gift.

The gods had given her a gift. They had chosen her to bear the burden of great responsibility. Her large soul was evidence of this. She was no simple reincarnation. Kagome had been put on this earth for a purpose and it certainly hadn't been simply to give Kikyo's soul another chance. The fact that she looked like the late priestess to Miroku was incidental. Kagome was destined for greater things than merely paying a debt from a former life. It was plain to him that she was an instrument of the gods. What purpose her presence here served, he couldn't guess nor would he try to. That she was here was all that mattered. She'd find her purpose soon enough but he guessed that it wouldn't be without suffering on her part. Those called by the gods were often tested and put upon. They were born into this world to shoulder suffering, it was their way. He could only hope that he and the others would be able to make Kagome's life just a bit easier along the road.

Miroku watched the shifting silhouette of his friend as she tended the daiyoukai. The gilded halo of the sun set slowly turning from golden afternoon to cool evening in the blink of an eye. As the dulling sun tucked itself behind the veil of the world, Kagome reflected on the events of the day. Things had passed so quickly that she hadn't had the time to really think about it. In a way, she was kind of glad she didn't understand but part of her knew it was better to know than not. But she was resolved in her ignorance and willfully made herself not think about it. She had also tried to will herself NOT to look at Sesshoumaru and she'd failed miserably at that. Her eyes kept glancing up at him, flickering to his face when her mind wandered. Giving up, she gazed at him fully as she injected his second dose of medication. His eyes were closed and he looked for all the world like he was really at peace. But he still seemed so cold, like an impenetrable barrier of ice surrounded him. You could chip away at it all you wanted, but it would always remain. As her hands touched the flesh on his arm, she suddenly remembered what happened in the morning. How warm he felt...She blushed hotly. Such thoughts were ridiculous and wrong. She viciously wished that his skin was cold like the ice he built around himself. It'd make things easier for her over-active imagination. He was an oil painting. Beautiful to look at but utterly untouchable, and though it'd be so easy to just reach out and brush the canvas...the knock on the head you'd get from the security guard would hardly make the effort worthwhile.

Thinking things resolved, she turned her gaze to the offerings surrounding him. The little grave was indeed overflowing with flowers for Rin. There were simple little bouquets alongside artfully arranged wreaths and garlands, all a pure and dazzling white. There were even a few small toys left by local children. An edge of sadness entered her eyes as she thought of children leaving a gift for one of their own. Looking at one well loved little doll, she was stricken by the poignancy and heartfelt sorrow in the gift. The doll was obviously someone's favored toy and they'd given it to a dead little girl they hadn't even known. Feeling tears crawling their way forward she looked away, staring at the more practical gifts left for the daiyoukai--which consisted mostly of food and other things someone like Sesshoumaru clearly wouldn't want nor have any use for.

Interestingly, she noticed a small garland had joined the single flower she'd given him. The looping ring of chrysanthemums was placed haphazardly over his wrist and hung just beyond his knee. Kaede had told her that Mayu, one of the village's youngest children, had left it there for him. The elderly priestess had been horrified to see the tiny toddler trundle up to the daiyoukai, garland in hand. She had tried to stop Mayu, but the girl was irrepressible and she wasn't nearly nimble enough to run after her. Lucky for them all, Sesshoumaru didn't even flinch and had allowed the little girl to approach him without the batting of an eye. Mayu had gently set the flowers over his hand and bowing low, she thanked the daiyoukai and expressed her solemn condolences. It was no surprise to Kagome that he hadn't reacted at all, though it did, apparently, surprise Kaede quite a bit. Kagome smiled sadly at the memory and the imagined mental illustration of the moment. Bit by bit that afternoon six years ago faded away. The mosaic tiles of her memory broke away piece by piece, fluttering in a nowhere wind as they passed. Too soon the pastoral beauty of that glided remembrance transformed into the dull museum waiting room. Opening her eyes, Kagome glanced around and was somewhat sad to find herself here instead of there.

If only she'd known then what she knew now...

Blinking the tears and the sorrow away, she took a deep breath and tried her best to let the past be in the past. She had to focus on why she was here. Tokyo had long been known for many things, amongst them were their museums. Every really great city had them in spades. The Uzumaki Metropolitan Museum of Greater Japan was one of the newest. It specialized in ancient Japanese weaponry and artifacts. Not too unusual if you only looked at it from the surface. But Kagome had done her research. This specific museum dealt in rare antiquities, most of them having illustrious, infamous, or mystical origins. She'd had a chance, brief though it may have been, to take a look at their holdings. Their collection was impressive. They had armor that supposedly belonged to Nobunaga Oda. Several swords that belonged to Musashi Minamoto and quite a few scrolls of his calligraphy--though it seemed of lesser quality than those seen in the Rekihaku National Museum of Japanese History. Though the pieces that were of interest to her had little to no historical importance. Several of the pieces gave off a distinct but subdued demonic aura. It was obvious to her that enchantments had been put on them. So it wasn't like the museum didn't know what they had.

She'd been keeping an eye on this new museum and the antiquities dealer that funded the place. Saito Antiquities had backed the museum...it's one and only contributor, in fact. Saito Industries was family run and had been in the business of finding and restoring rare antiquities for a very long time. And the rare antiquities they dealt in most always had mystical or demonic origins. She'd never to come into conflict with the Saitos because despite the fact that they pedaled demonic weaponry, they'd never crossed the line. They had never been known to going looking were they shouldn't have. And any antiques of demonic origin they possessed were always neutralized before sale. She'd actually had occasion to sell a few charms to them once. That's how they got her name.

Then several months ago, a representative from Saito Antiquities had visited the shrine and began asking questions. They were looking for an expert on a very old myth to corroborate some stories about a particular sword. The woman they sent had also asked about a relic housed at the shrine. They'd come to her shrine seeking information on the Shikon jewel. She'd come here to find out why they wanted it. The pretense of this visit was to formally interview for a consultant position with the museum for an upcoming exhibit on the feudal era and its myths and legends. But her only real reason was to ascertain why they'd ask about the Shikon jewel.

Narrowing her eyes, she wondered if the evil of that damned jewel would ever stop. She had thought that after making the wish it would disappear...it should have. Her wish had been unselfish. She knew it had but it was still here and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. Sure, it was nearly bereft of power but it could still be used. It hadn't disappeared and neither had her problems with it. Even if it had, the scrolls containing how to 'Make Your Own Jewel in Seven Easy Steps' had to be protected. It didn't matter how much she detested the duty. She was the jewel's protector and she'd do what she had to.

Turning her wrist over, she glanced at her watch and was disturbed to see that she'd been so busy daydreaming that she'd lost a drastic amount of time. She'd been sitting in this waiting room for well over forty five minutes. Her meeting with the museum director was at two thirty and it was...a quarter after three! The interview was only supposed to last fifteen to twenty minutes, because her position was pretty much secured. Her interview was really only to propitiate the paper pushers and it was an excuse for the new museum director to formally meet her. For her part, she'd agreed only because she wanted to confirm her suspicions. This museum, though only a year old, had recently had a change of directors. The old director had died and a new one had been nominated. Satoru Saito had taken over as director at the request of his father, the late Hitoshi Saito. It interested Kagome to note that the CEO of Saito Antiquities also stood as director for their museum. Another interesting fact was that the elder Saito had died under rather mysterious circumstances.

Mysterious circumstances included a body that never made it to the coroner's office, which was odd. Hitoshi Saito was said to have died suddenly at home. All reports indicated he'd died from a fall after having had a heart attack. So there should have been a body and that body should have gone to the coroner for an autopsy...as all such cases would. But it hadn't. Mysterious circumstances also included a funeral that never happened. The papers had mentioned that it was to be a private affair. Even so, there should have been a traceable record of it. But there wasn't. It was also rather odd that the current director looked a lot like the old director, only a bit younger. Of course, it could be passed off as them being related. The fact was, not many people saw the elder Saito much less the younger one...and those who had remarked on the almost identical similarity in appearance from father to son. Like they weren't two people at all but one. It was also curious to note, that no one had seen father and son together...ever. In fact, no one had even known Hitoshi HAD a son until recently. All these facts put together, plus the Saito's link to the demonic world was worrisome and it was doubly suspicious that they asked about the Shikon.

She'd come with a twin purpose, to find out what Saito wanted and what she felt to be the truth. That Satoru Saito and his late father were one and the same. That he was a demon who sought the Shikon--whether it was the jewel itself or information on how to make one of his own was irrelevant. The fact that he wanted it and was a demon was enough for her to know what she had to do. And if those facts were as true as she believed them to be...she'd be forced to deal with him harshly.

He would regret seeking the Shikon and would pay for his foolishness with his life.

But she'd have to get close enough to him to make sure. Most demons relied on concealing spells these days. There was a counter spell but for it to work, she had to be in close proximity to the enspelled demon. Sadly, there was no way to salvage her interview. The director was late and she'd missed her appointment. She would have to reschedule as she was busy this afternoon. It was almost three thirty and she had another, most important, appointment to keep. She'd promised to meet her mother here at the museum for lunch.

With a deep sigh, she stood up and approached the odious secretary...who was still talking on the phone. After a few moments, the secretary took time out of her "busy" schedule to wait on her. Kagome left a message for Saito with her business card so they could arrange another appointment. Satisfied that she'd done all she could, Kagome wandered into the museum proper. As expected, her mother wasn't at the appointed waiting place. Typical. Her mother was many things, most of them wonderful, but she could be terribly ditzy when she wanted to be.

"Oh well." Kagome thought listlessly, mulling over whether it was worth the effort to try and call her.

She did and it wasn't. Her mother lived up to her rep by not having her cell phone turned on. Sighing and stuffing her hands back into her pockets, she strolled into the museum to search for her errant mother.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Hello again! I had to do this repost because there was an error a review brought my attention to...though I think unintentionally. So it's all fixed now and consequently, I feel better.

So! Without further ado, a few notes here and there. First of all, I want to thank all my reviewers! I've always tried to write for myself and be true to my vision of how these stories I make up in my head should go. But I'd just be a nerd with a word processing program and a dream or two without you guys. So thank you for putting up with me. Along those lines, I have to thank my lovely beta reader, Ardwynna Morrigu, who has to handle my madness on more than one occasion and who'd I'm eternally grateful for. Especially with this last chapter. I have to admit, I was working on this under duress. I hadn't slept very well and at one point I was so confused I couldn't tell "effect" from "affect". Still addled from lack of sleep, I fired off a half crazy email begging her to tell me the difference. God bless her soul, she did and she didn't even make me feel like the jackass I was. Thankfully, I've gotten some sleep and I feel much better now. And thanks to Ardwynna, I now know the difference between "affect" and "effect". HURRAH!

I also wanted to apologize for how long it took to update this! My family was hit with a bit of a bad patch. My husband's Grandma had to go to the hospital to remove a stretch of her intestines because of some cancerous growths on them. I love her to pieces, as much as I love my own Gran...and so she took preference over anything else I wanted to do. My husband was also quite distraught and there are quite a few things more important than updating...this happened to be one of them. Still, I'm sorry for the wait. So here you go! Two chapters. Though in actuality, these two chapters were only supposed to be one. Good news for everyone though! (Except me, just means more work...Le SIGH!) This story is going to crest six chapters I think. So HURRAH FOR SOCKS!

A warning aboot the next chapter! There will be citrage...there is no getting out of it. However, the version I'm posting to Fanfiction dot net will be much tamer. Sort of an old Hollywood passionate kiss blackout cut to the next morning when they're smoking cigarettes...thing. The more graphic version will be posted at a Single Spark. So you have choices! But be forewarned, the next chapter WILL have much in the way of adult content. Just an FYI.

**Notes on the translation**--Just another reminder that I'm the type of writer who goes for how the names of people and objects sound, rather than the actual spelling. I'd go into the long and short of it but it's all hot and it hurts and stuff and I'm tastin' METAL! Some don't like it because it stinky of dub...or at the least some of my spellings do. I just wanted to stay true to how things sounded when you hear the spoken Japanese...as opposed to other stuff. It's either that or I'm an incredible jackass. Take your pick.

Aaaaaaanyways.

Research Notes and Other Stuff

The Uzumaki Metropolitan Museum does NOT exist. I made it up. Uzumaki is the name for the Japanese sequel to Ringu (The Ring in the US), which is remarkably different from the US sequel. I just saw it and it was weird and the word kind of stuck out to me. So I used it for my made up museum. Uzumaki means the spiral BTW.

Also I finally found my notes I was missing for chapter 2 and we can all know what the hell Kusui means. Well, my fucked up squishing of the word which probably isn't correct but at this point, I don't care. Kusui means painful weakness. Or at least it's the kanji for painful and weakness.

Questions? Comments? Check my user profile for email addresses! Send your complaints, questions, jibes, derisive comments, and scads of rotten tomatoes to either of those addresses. Also check out my writing journal. There is linkage in the profile thingie. Why? you ask. Why not? Do you have anything better to do? I know I don't. Anyways. Later!

Ciao

Noa

NOTE---Another error was brought to my attention by a reader! Extra special thanks to KT for pointing out that it's LOW levels of Seratonin that bring about derpression. Not high levels. Thank you SO much!


	5. Why Must I Be Sad?

_No one knows these things but me and him_

_So I'm writing everything down in a spiral notebook_

_In the hopes that one day_

_Someone might feel as low as this_

_--They Might Be Giants _

Kagome strolled through the empty museum, her heels clicking noisily on the highly polished marble floors. She gazed absently at a few of the displays as she passed them but nothing had really caught her eye. Nothing but case after case of old weapons, old armor, old scrolls and to just break things up...old pottery. It was perhaps the dullest place she'd ever set foot in and she wondered how they made any money. Stifling a yawn, she felt her mind turn in on itself again. There was a tinge of bittersweet emotion triggered by her recent reminiscences and no matter how hard she tried, that feeling just wouldn't fade away. So she gave up.

She let her feelings play out as she wandered from room to room, not particularly interested in anything at all. Her mother wasn't anywhere to be found and apparently the museum was much larger than it looked. Or so it seemed anyway. The place was absolutely labyrinthine and she realized with a flicker of aggravation that it could be hours--days even--before she found her mother...much less anyone else.

Suddenly, her idea of searching the museum by herself lost all its charm and appeal. She supposed that she could go down and enlist the museum staff to help her but she had never liked to make a fuss. Besides, it might be a labyrinth but she felt something tugging along. Her sixth sense was kicking in and it seemed to be in overdrive. Something inside this place was calling to her or she was calling to it. She wasn't sure which it was but she followed all the same.

Circuiting room after room with almost restless desperation, thoughts of finding her mother left her. In the back of her mind she really wanted to leave and her inward self kept whispering to her, begging her to just go. This wandering was pointless; she should stop and go downstairs. She should get museum security up here to help her. Maybe they could make some kind of announcement over the intercom. But the core part of herself, the one that controlled things didn't listen and it followed the pulsing beat, heedless of any warnings in her heart. She shouldn't continue forward, she shouldn't stay.

This place had brought back those feelings from so long ago. When she felt helpless and alone. Weak. Useless. And despite how far she'd come since then, she couldn't help but feel that way again. It was like she'd been sucked back into that younger self. As if time had folded in on her, pulling her back into the past and violently ripping her away from any future she tried to grasp.

God, she'd worked so hard not to feel this way. She'd practiced and hardened herself against it, but with just an afternoon's worth of remembrance all that work had been washed away. Disappearing into a well of discontent that she hadn't even known she'd had. Perhaps the past had left an endless well in her heart. A well she'd never quite leave and no matter how hard she tried to fill it, it was always there waiting for her. The empty deep called for her, trying to constantly pull her back to the person she once was.

That girl who loved everyone but herself...who was beloved and reviled...that girl who had enough friends to fill an entire room, yet still felt so empty and alone. A girl who knew all those things but never did anything to change her situation, instead she allowed herself to be used in hopes of being loved and cared for. The Higurashi Kagome of the past was always seeking a savior to solve her problems. She was a damsel looking for a hero, while pretending to play a part that didn't even belong to her. That Kagome was weak and naive.

The Kagome that faced the world today was nothing like that girl. She'd crawled from that well with her bare hands and she'd made herself over. Higurashi Kagome wasn't weak. She was a strong young woman, who'd carved out a place for herself by force of her own will. No one had helped her pick up the pieces. There were a few that had tried, but she hadn't let them. No, it was Kagome and Kagome alone who had hauled herself up out of that well. She stood on her own two feet to face a hostile and unforgiving world that had no place for a university drop-out.

Receiving no hand outs and few hand ups, Kagome had made her way and found a purpose for herself. She made a life that worked. A life that was lonely and sometimes a bit too melancholy for her tastes but it was hers. No one else's. It had been so hard, but she'd done it all by herself. And the only reason she was able to do that was by forgetting the past. She had never thought about the time before she _literally_ crawled out of the well for the last time six years ago. To save her sanity and preserve what little self-respect she had left, she had to or at least, she'd tried to. She hadn't really _wanted _to remember...but this place. Something about it...It was like the museum had drawn it out of her.

Kagome grunted discontentedly, pretending to gaze at the displays and it wasn't working very well. It wasn't holding back anything as she'd hoped. Instead, it seemed to make her more contemplative and soon she felt the tide of memory overwhelming her. It crashed over the rocks...She closed her eyes, pressing them shut to try and stem the tide. The effort was futile. She tried to break away so she could leave, knowing that somehow it'd help. Her mind screamed at her feet to turn around. They could go downstairs. Call security. They'd find her mother and...

She froze. Her eyes snapped open and she turned her head slowly. The pulse she'd been following was stronger and her eyes wandered until they found something that finally caught her attention. It was located just off the main drag, hidden behind several larger exhibits, which was strange to say the least. Especially since the little case she'd found was so beautifully lit. It almost seemed as if it was waiting there for her, with all its little lights aglow against the dark atmosphere of the museum. As if the great goddess of the sun herself had chosen to illuminate this just to catch her attention.

Her eyes trailed from the lights down to the object they lit so brightly. In that display was a sword. That fact in and of itself wasn't so unusual. There were many swords housed in this museum but this had to be the only one that was broken. The shattered pieces of the sword lay neatly arranged on a swath of dark blue velvet. Someone had carefully pieced the sword back together so that it somewhat resembled its original shape. But you could still see thin stripes of the velvet underneath the sword so that there was no mistaking what had happened to it. One small piece had been upended to show a cross-section of the sword. Like a missing puzzle piece, she gazed from the cross-section to the gap in the blade where it belonged.

She was compelled to approach this display and now nothing warred within. Kagome was unable to stop herself even if she wanted to try. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest and she felt an external pulse pull her forward in synchronization. Her feet dragged across the slick floor and as she closed in on the display, she felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Putting a hand over her chest, she tried to calm herself but her heart only beat more wildly. Her fingers dug underneath her shirt, finding the pendant that always hung there. She pulled the silver chain free and grasped the completed shikon in her trembling hand as if to reassure herself. Of what, she had no guess. The jewel was luminous and ever hovering with broken magic and shattered promises. Its light dimly slipped from between her the fingers of her closed fist, as if trying to escape her but it couldn't anymore.

The jewel was hers to protect, it belonged to her just as she belonged to it. At the height of its power the jewel had shone bright pink but it was bereft of that light now. Her wish had purified it and in granting her requests, the jewel had lost most of its strength. The only reason it showed any power now was due to its guardian and not the jewel itself. It merely reacted to her touch, her power. The shikon jewel was a dim shadow of what it had been. It should have disappeared. That was the problem. But something had gone wrong. Whether it was the wish itself or something else, no one would ever know. The jewel knew. It hadn't disappeared because it wasn't yet time to. The guardian still needed it. There were wishes yet to be granted and it would remain until it had finished the guardian's last request.

Kagome didn't know this and so she remained chained to her duty. Her life standing still as she doggedly protected the jewel from any who still sought it. Even as diminished as it was, the jewel still had power that could be tapped and she'd be damned before letting anyone twist it to their will. The shikon would remain pure as long as she lived.

Twisting the jewel between two fingers, she could feel it warm beneath her touch. It hummed with power and she could feel it pulse in time with her heart again, reminding her of the first time she fell. It felt like...like when Mistress Centipede had dragged her into the well for the first time. This was the start of something. The jewel wanted this, it had led her here and it wanted to show her...an old, broken sword? She was vaguely irritated by this but her curiosity was persuasive. The jewel pulsed. _Things will change_. She shook her head. _But I don't want them to_. It beat loudly against her chest. _You have no choice._ Clasping the jewel more tightly, she frowned, whispering out loud, "I don't care. I've had enough of change..."

But that didn't stop her feet from moving forever forward, inexorably. The sword loomed brilliantly in the dark and her hand lifted to touch the display, her fingers trailing lightly over the glass. Her dark eyes flickered over the encased sword, drinking in every detail. There was something accursedly familiar about it.

_What is it that you want me to see?_

It looked like Chinese long sword, though the style was obviously imitated. The blade was doubled sided and thin, slightly tapering as it met the hilt--an unusual detail in swords of these types. A true Chinese long sword wouldn't have that taper; the blade's shape would be uniform. This was Japanese made. Its handle was stockier and just a bit shorter than a Japanese katana and it was wrapped with a thin, black leather strap. Perhaps long ago that leather had been dyed but age had darkened it.

The pommel was made from a simple brass or gold ring, neatly capping off the handle. At one time a sash or tassel of some sort was probably attached to the pommel, but it had long since rotted away. Silk wasn't a sturdy fabric and it didn't weather time well. It had fallen away, along with the glory this sword must once have had. She was sure it used to be a beautiful weapon. It had once been loved...and now it wasn't. Just a cold, forgotten relic in a museum.

Fate had a terrible sense of humor.

She recognized the hand that made this sword, though not the sword itself. Kagome wasn't that ignorant little girl anymore who couldn't tell one sword from another. In the years between then and now, she'd spent her time studying the martial arts and its weaponry. She wasn't an expert by any means, but she had schooled herself to identify different kinds of weapons. Especially mystical or demonic weaponry.

This sword bore the mark of Kaijinbou. She'd recognize his brutal but simple technique from a mile away. The few swords he made that still existed would cause nothing but trouble. How had they come by it...and how had they subdued it so thoroughly? His swords bore a malice in them that was unmatched. She wondered idly which one it was. He'd only made a few before he died. She couldn't really tell which it might be as his swords had a sameness to them that was mind boggling.

In the back of her mind she sort of hoped it wasn't the one sword she thought it was. The one sword she knew for a fact Kaijinbou had made. There was only one way to know for sure. Even subdued, the sword would have a slightly malicious aura around it that was unique to the individual sword. That was really the only way to tell Kaijinbou's swords apart, anyway. She should have felt it already but it seemed to be curiously absent. Concentrating, Kagome consciously tried to feel it, narrowing her eyes to slits. There was nothing. This sword hadn't just been subdued; it'd been purified...completely. How?

And in the back of her mind she did a little happy dance. There was a chance, a chance it might not be what she thought it was because there was no way a certain demon she wouldn't name would allow his sword to be purified. And besides, the only person capable of completely purifying one of Kaijinbou's swords was...well...her. Kikyo might have been up to the task pre-wish, but post-wish...not so much. There was a placard underneath the display with a long explanation about the sword. She read it, not really hoping that it would have actual, useful information. Most human beings couldn't deal with the knowledge that demons really did exist. They block it out, grasping for less truthful but pleasantly reasonable sounding explanations for the unfamiliar. A demonic weapon like this would elicit confused curiosity and half-assed rationalization.

_"This unusual sword dating from the Feudal Era is a fine example of early forging techniques. Made of high quality steel, this sword--"_

"Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah." She whispered quietly, rolling her eyes as she skimmed ahead. "God, get on with it!"

_"--An attempt was made by our restorers to re-forge the sword but they were met with constant failure. The experts we contacted were unable to adequately explain--"_

"B-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oring." She thought to herself, skipping ahead a few paragraphs.

_"--One expert commented, 'The gods wrought this sword asunder and only by their grace will it ever be whole again'..." _

"Pfffffft. People are idiots." She mumbled, blankly reading the plaque with a discontented frown.

_"This doesn't explain the perplexing issues regarding the inability to forge the sword anew. All tests on the sword have--"_

It went on and on like that, and she felt herself becoming increasingly frustrated with the writer's ineptitude. She was looking for something, dammit, and all they were giving her were ludicrous suppositions. Kagome skimmed the rest of the plaque anxiously, barely understanding the words she was reading. There had to be something--anything--that'd give her a clue as to which sword this was. She had to know. Was desperate to know.

At the very bottom of the placard in miniscule letters, came the answer she was searching for.

_Graciously donated to the museum by Higurashi, Masao, Higurashi Shrine_...

Kagome paled and stared at the sword in slack jawed shock. Higurashi Shrine...it had their address and everything..._Masao_..._Grandpa_. The old fool had loaned this museum this sword. Her mind tried to come up with a why and a when but she was at a loss. Gods above! She loved the old man but he could be so dense! How had he gotten a hold of it? Why hadn't he told her! Did he even know what it was that he had?

She wasn't sure what she wanted to punch right now but the desire was unmistakable and hard to hold back. No doubt museum security wouldn't look kindly on her if she put a fist sized hole through the display case in frustration.

"Damn it." She hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers as she uttered a series of vile and barely audible curses under her breath.

Her mind swirled with unanswerable questions which all abruptly stopped. She blinked as numb comprehension filled the empty void the questions left. This sword was made by Kaijinbou, of that there was little doubt. It had been purified and it had been stored at her shrine. This sword was Toukijin. She didn't need any further confirmation. New questions formed in her mind and most of them she didn't necessarily want answers for. She broke out in a cold sweat, the beginnings of dread seeping to the surface. So, this was why the jewel had brought her here, though whether it had done this to answer her questions or raise more was up for studious debate. And Kagome wasn't feeling in a debating mood. Thinking in general seemed like a bad idea at the moment while leaving had gained a whole new appeal.

Why had it decided to show it to her? Why?

Was this the jewel's way of telling her to let go? Or was it just laughing at her, taunting her with her inadequacy as its guardian, reminding her of her mistakes and her ultimate weakness. Either way, it was cruel. Unnecessarily so.

_You always assume the worst, Priestess_.

What?

_Remember...that's what we brought you here for_...

The solid and comfortable walls of reality shuddered, bending the light around her as if shaken by the hand of god itself. She could feel the floor beneath her feet tremble, and the dull cracking of wood and stone. Kagome looked around wildly, half expecting an attack of some kind or perhaps the beginnings of an earthquake. The world around her warped and rippled in on itself, like a fleet of shimmering petals twirling around each other after being shed and tossed into a roiling river. She had always taken reality for granted and her oversight was more glaring than could be imagined.

Her mind's dim eye tried to struggle in vain with the magic that engulfed the tiny room in the museum. Instead of halting the spell cast around her, she hastened it. The shuttering void enveloped her and all that was and is and was not was the seeing world. She backed away from the encased Toukijin, becoming increasingly alarmed within herself. Her whole life she'd skirted the edge between madness and sanity, but something had obviously gotten the better of her this time.

The jewel in her hand flared a bright, violent pink. It was a fleeting demonstration of its full power, a last hurrah of sorts. There was one final wish it had to fulfill and this day was the culmination of years of waiting for just the right moment. Time and its passage had always had links to the jewel...it was its master and its tool. It had always had time and made time and now it was the last time. A single bell clapped, its sound ringing in her ears like a thousand voices all talking at once. Silence fell and then it rang again. Kagome covered her ears, hoping that if she couldn't hear it than whatever the jewel wanted wouldn't happen. Still silence fell and for a moment, she thought she might have succeeded.

The last toll was rung and time unfurled around her like the spinning rays of the sun. It illuminated the dark void, unraveling the reality around her and rewriting it to resemble the reflection of the past. Time spun backwards as memories long forgotten were dredged from the deep recesses of her mind. It was forcing her to remember. To experience the past as she had when it had first happened and though she struggled, the jewel's magic was far too potent.

Present day Tokyo broke apart, spilling out around her like a bag of marbles dropped on the playground pavement. That reality skittered out of her reach, spiraling away from her as if drained away by the past. Images of the feudal era took their place, flickering to life with the force of a million brilliant candles. They assaulted her, wrapping themselves around her in an effervescent embrace that was as life giving as it was soul destroying. Her eyes fluttered. Her mind reeled and she could no longer fight the ribbons of magic that surrounded her. She gave herself over to the pulse of time, loosing herself in the shadowed mirrors of the past.

Blue light engulfed her small figure, made brighter as it glowed between the slats of time. It was rippling light between the simple darkness of a closed window shade. The shikon was magic made of the crashing tide. Of coursing rain. It would not be denied as it shuttled its guardian backward. Spinning further and further away, she was the tremulous moon to its sun. She had put logic and reason aside and embraced madness or what she believed to be madness, exchanging all that she knew to be real for the hypnotic pulse of the past.

The spiraling shape of indistinct forms and images curved around each other and like a wrinkle in time, they straightened themselves out. Reality reordered itself, while voices began to chant around her endlessly. They spun in the same direction as the shape and she followed it unwillingly. Abruptly they coalesced into a single voice that was tinged with something that sounded a bit like concern. In the back of her mind, she almost recognized it, though it had been six years since she last heard it. The familiar voice called her name but she didn't want to hear. Covering her ears wasn't working, so she decided that maybe if she worked at her temples it'd go away. She wasn't sure why it would go away if she did that...

"Kagome?" questioned the voice.

She wasn't going to answer to it. If she didn't acknowledge the voice, then it wasn't there and if it wasn't there...then...it wasn't there. It was as simple as that.

"Kagome?" It queried again, this time with more worry evident in its tone.

"Mmmmrff...Go away..." She grunted, desperately.

It was with much annoyance that she recognized the voice was female...and a friend.

"Kagome?"

"No..." She mumbled back at it.

"Kagome!" The voice all but shouted, as if that would get her attention.

It did but she only shut her eyes tighter. She didn't want to hear it. Didn't...

"KAGOME!"

A hand shook her shoulder and she finally opened her eyes. Her hand was still lingering at her temple as she blinked away the sun, which was blindingly bright. Several things were apparent to her. One--She had a terrible headache. Two--Her mind appeared to be mired in some kind of horrible mental fog and she found it terribly hard to think. Shaking her head, she felt the cobwebs ebb away and from the mist, Sango's befuddled face appeared. The demon slayer gazed at her friend with true worry, her hand still gently grasping Kagome's shoulder.

"Kagome...are you alright?" She asked slowly, tilting her head to punctuate her confusion and her concern.

The young priestess nodded and smiled weakly, forcing her hand from her throbbing temple. She had to look like everything was okay, even if it wasn't.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She replied lamely in a high, breathless whisper, "Just have a bit of a headache..."

It wasn't a total lie, after all.

Sango frowned but nodded, though she was clearly displeased with the answer. It wasn't like Kagome was hiding her problems very well and she'd never seen the need for it. She seemed to think her problems were such a bother to everyone else, when they really weren't. It was her penchant for NOT telling them about it that was. Sighing, Sango knew better than to press the issue. No matter how fake Kagome's smile was. Sooner or later, she'd spill the beans. It was only a matter of time. Besides, she'd always admired Kagome for not being the kind of girl who complained about everything. It was one of the ways they were alike, a commonality that bound her to the young priestess as not just a friend, but a sister.

"Well...if you're sure." Sango replied uncertainly.

Kagome nodded again with a bit more vigor. It didn't fool her friend in the least. The demon slayer tipped her head solemnly in reply before walking back towards Kaede's hut to continue packing for the trip ahead. Kagome watched her go, trying very hard to keep it together. She couldn't afford to worry her friends than they already were--she was worried enough for herself as it was. It had been two days since the cemetery incident. Sango had just shown up a few moments ago and she had been quickly brought up to speed. It had taken a nanosecond for the demon slayer to decide that she'd help Sesshoumaru...which came as a great surprise to just about everyone.

Being a demon slayer, she almost always argued against helping youkai who were a danger to humans. And the great Western Lord fit quite nicely into that category. So Miroku and Kagome had steeled themselves for an argument and felt cheated when none was given. Once all the cards had been laid on the table, she pretty much had no questions about what she should do. Naraku hurt Sesshoumaru and killed his ward. Hence Naraku becomes Sesshoumaru's enemy and any enemy of Naraku was a friend of hers. The added incentive to help the daiyoukai was that his ward was a human girl. This showed that he was a youkai that wasn't completely irredeemable and thus helping him wouldn't break the slayer's code.

In any event, Kagome was glad she wouldn't have to argue with Sango about it, because she was frankly much too tired. Kagome stretched a bit and sighed, kneeling down to continue to fill a basket with herbs for Kaede's use. The elderly priestess was getting far too old to do this kind of work and Kagome had helpfully volunteered. She now regretted it but only because she hadn't slept well at all. In fact, she felt an all over sense of fatigued restlessness that wouldn't leave her no matter how hard she tried. The morning sun warmed her stiff back as she worked and though it was enjoyable, she kind of wished she could crawl back into the hut and sleep a bit longer. Even if it meant risking Kaede's disapproval, she was exhausted. And she would have done it too, but for the fact that Sango and Miroku were in there right now discussing their travel plans for the next couple of days. She could faintly hear their voices as they liltingly escaped the confines of the hut. The sound was muffled by distance and the silent ambient wind that pushed lightly around her.

They were whispering.

Why were they whispering?

* * *

Short Author's Notes--Yeaaaaaaaaaaaah. This doesn't have any smut in it. I know. As I've said before, this particular story sort of grew wings and became larger than originally intended. I'm running with it, despite the lack of sleep it causes. I promise at some point there will be smut. Toned down smut at this site, but smut none the less. An unrated version will be posted elsewhere. But I'm not promising what chapter it'll be in. You'll just have to suffer actual story for a bit. Hopefully within the week I can have at least one more chapter of this posted! Thanks for your patience everyone!

Ciao

Noa


	6. Unrelated Thing

_I was thinking of an unrelated thing  
Unconnected and free  
No relationship to anything _

How come you never look me in the eye?

_...I'm still thinking of an unrelated thing_

_--They Might Be Giants_

Everyone had been acting strange around her lately and it was getting on her nerves. Yes, the whole situation with Sesshoumaru had weirded her out and so she was acting a little irregular. And yes, there were some awfully strange dreams that happened to be about "the incident" that kept her up for the last two nights but she'd managed to ignore it. After all, they were only dreams and if they were a bad portent or some kind of spell, they'd be activated and she'd be trying to kill people by now.

Kagome had never been the kind of girl who went for subterfuge tactics but she felt she had a right to know. The day after the cemetery incident, Kaede and Miroku had disappeared for a long time. Only to reappear long after the sun had set. Neither of them said a word, but she noticed the side long glance Kaede gave her as she entered the hut. It was as if she was looking for something.

The next day she felt it too. She'd seen Miroku talking to Shippou, which in and of itself meant nothing. But when the kit had practically knocked her over not ten seconds later, sniffing her like there was no tomorrow...she knew something was up. Plus, they'd been awful insistent about accompanying her when she went to heal Sesshoumaru. And she'd noticed the way they'd stare at him, like they were waiting for him to do something. He had...but they'd never know. It was harmless. It was nothing.

Or at least, that's what she told herself. She had rationalized that whatever weirdness was happening was accidental. Just a result of him having lost someone dear to him and her being human, perhaps he saw her as someone who'd understand. It was just a kind of mourning. Different from the way humans did it, but it was mourning none-the-less and nothing to be concerned over. Or so she told herself again and again, but doubt had begun to nag at her.

And she was worried.

She was being watched. Not just by Miroku and Kaede. She was watched by him. Could feel him, even when he wasn't near but not in the normal way someone with spiritual powers would sense demonic power. It was something deeper and beyond comprehension. It was out of her control, a situation she found herself in all too often. A situation she was beginning to hate immensely.

They weren't telling her something. They knew what was happening or they thought they knew. Maybe they hoped to prevent something even more terrible than her mild embarrassment at Sesshoumaru's odd behavior. If so, why weren't they telling her?

Probably because they knew it would do little good. Even if she knew, she wouldn't stop doing something despite the fact that'd put her in danger. She'd proven that fact on more than one occasion. Still, it would be nice to be let in on the big secret. Or maybe it wasn't something she really wanted to know.

Ah, but she was always a curious one and like the cat, one day it would probably kill her.

Unconsciously, she made herself as quiet as possible and inched towards the hut. It was wrong to spy like this but she had to know. They couldn't keep the truth from her forever. She had a right to know, dammit. A right to know about something that would affect her life like this, whatever it might be. Straining her ears, she listened carefully, trying to catch whatever she could of their conversation.

Miroku's soft came liltingly from the hut, "--ttack was more than just an attempt on his life. It was meant to break him. I don't think it mattered to Naraku whether he lived or died because he knew either way it would bring disgrace upon Sesshoumaru. He wanted to humiliate him. To make him look weak."

"I understand all of that but how does Kagome fit in?"

Miroku's voice became slightly muffled and she had to strain to hear, "--o you know about Kindoku poisoning?"

"Enough." Sango paused, "I've used a variant of that poison on several occasions, actually. But I still don't understand what your point is."

"Always without desire we must be found. For if desire with us be. Its outer fringe is all we see." He intoned with stoic solemnity.

"Yes, your clever poem clears up all my questions. Thank so very much, Houshi-sama." Sango's voice bit back sarcastically, the tone in her voice clearly conveying her annoyance with his evasiveness.

The monk heaved a great sigh and Kagome could almost imagine him shaking his head as he spoke, "Humans are creatures of desire. Even in our most selfless actions we express our desires, our wishes."

"I don't understand..." she said, her voice was quiet, concerned.

"Over the years, we humans have made rules for ourselves. Laws, morals, codes of conduct, all of these things are meant to suppress our ever growing desires. These same rules, in their own way, are selfish, born out of our desire to be better than our baser nature. We seek to conquer our desires, yet those same desires underlie our every action...no matter how noble they seem."

"So..." Sango began, her interest turning into suspicion as he spoke, "Morality is nothing more than suppressed desire...attempting to justify yourself again, Monk?"

"No." He said, his voice sharp and defensive, "Sango, if you were given a choice to save yourself, but if that same salvation came at the expense of another...would you do it?"

"It depends on the situation..."

"All right, say it was a child that was in danger. If you help the child, you'll surely die. Yet, if you do nothing, you condemn the child to death. What would you do? Let the child die or do everything in your power to save that child?"

"WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT! Of COURSE I'd save the child!"

"Why?"

"Because it'd be wrong not to!" Sango snapped at him, clearly irritated by the subject matter and how close it hit to home.

The monk didn't seem to take offense at her harsh tones and said in voice layered with sympathy, "So, you don't want the child to die. Do you _desire_ your own death?"

"No...but..."

"But your desire for life would be less knowing that it came at the expense of another."

"Yes." She said, all too quietly, "Is there a point to all of this, Monk? It just seems like useless rumination to me..."

He didn't comment on what she said, instead, he continued on as if she hadn't spoken at all, "For youkai...it's not the same. They have desires, like we do, but they aren't ruled so thoroughly by them, as we are. They are creatures of nature, more in tune with it than any human could ever be. A youkai wouldn't save that child..._unless_ they needed it for something. It's the way of nature. The strong survive. The weak and useless die. If the child had any desire to live, it'd save itself."

There was a long, annoyingly awkward silence that hung about the hut for a tedious amount of time. Sango was the first to speak, and it was with great hesitation, "You're saying...I don't think I like the implica--Wait, what ARE you saying?"

"Kagome has saved a great many people...and she has saved many youkai as well. She does this out of a desire to help others, oftentimes at her own expense. Many, youkai and human, have taken advantage of this fact." He paused and heaved a great, weary sigh, "She is the most selfless person I know and it does her credit..."

"But..."

"But, this situation with Sesshoumaru," he trailed off then, as if gathering his thoughts, "She's playing a dangerous game and we're letting her. I'm concerned, Sango. I'm worried something will happen to her...There's a ritual I've been meaning to ask you about..."

Their words became muddied by the wind and their own whispering. Miroku apparently explaining the details of the ritual to Sango but she couldn't catch the words. The only thing she managed to hear well enough to understand were two words. _Kanya Samprayuktaka._ The name of the ritual.

At the time, she didn't know what the strange foreign sounding phrase meant. Now she knew. Yes, Kagome knew what it meant and where it came from. But then it had seemed like a bunch of strange sounds strung together with no meaning.

"I know this.." Sango gasped in horror laced with abject fear, "Oh...god...I know this...it's not a ritual. It's a curse."

"A curse? Are you sure? I was told..."

"OF COURSE I'M SURE!" Sango exploded, insulted that the Monk dared to question her knowledge, "Kindoku is a powerful poison, especially in higher doses. It kills quite effectively but it can do other things as well. It's a very versatile poison and there are a number of ways to prepare it."

"Hm. Interesting. Poisons are generally made to kill... So, what else could it be used for? "

"Well, I'd rather not say." She said, stumbling over her words in embarrassment, "B-but...it's just like you said...it can be used to humiliate one's enemies."

Miroku made a small, appreciative grunt. He must have been thinking because the hut went quiet again. Kagome nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard his staff jingle. He began to speak very quietly, but his voice was too low and muffled for her to hear exactly what it was he was saying. She strained her ears and caught the last bit of his finishing sentence, "--to strengthen another's aura. It's disconcerting that Sess--"

"I know what Kanya Samprayuktaka is used for, you pervert! But this is more than just some ritual to strengthen auras here! When that specific ritual is used in conjunction with the right variant of Kindoku...it...it becomes something much more. It's dangerous!" She hissed, thumping her hand on the floor for emphasis.

And in her head, Kagome repeated that word. _Dangerous_?

"I don't understand...I was told.."

"I don't care what you were told! Has he activated it? Tell me, Miroku! Has that..." She stopped herself before lowering her voice to a whisper, "...that youkai taken the first step?"

"I don't know."

"Damn..."

"Please, could you clarify a bit..."

"That ritual and Kindoku...If he's taken the first step, like you fear--th--be--dra-- together." She explained hurriedly, her voice skipping softly like a broken record, "Like moths to a flame, neith--oukai under Kindoku's influence after havi--star--itual will seek out something pure. Not just vir--"

Sango's voice became even quieter and was lost to the wind and the beating of her heart. She didn't like the sound of that at all, whatever it was and she desperately wanted to know what was being said seeing as it involved her and all. Kagome strained her ears, and prayed the wind had finished but whatever point the slayer had wanted to get across had fluttered away, Sango's voice only lifting much too late for her to glean any kind of useful information. Something was going on. She could feel the turning wheels and the machination of fate...or the gods...or something else, but she couldn't see the train yet. And if she couldn't see the train, how was she supposed to avoid it?

Sango's voice picked up in volume, becoming tremulously insistent, "--ake that light from them and come back for more and more. Like a drug...and if they're not careful...It could...We could lose her...I-It's just dangerous...for both of them."

"...Because the demonic and the holy have never existed in harmony." Miroku paused in thought a moment before speaking again, this time more slowly. "Is there a way to tell if he's invoked the first part of the ritual?"

"Yes, a mark...somewhere on her neck. It'd be small. Shaped like a diamond."

Absently, Kagome's hand snaked up to touch her neck, searching the flesh for the mark. At first, she was relieved to find nothing, until her fingers grazed behind her ear, near the hairline. For lack of a better description, it was where Sesshoumaru had nuzzled her. In that place was a small patch of scaly skin that felt like a wound that was just healing over. Her eyes watered and she felt panic rise within her. There was no way! It was a mistake. She'd just injured herself there and forgot about it. It was a pimple or something. Yes, a pimple that appeared magically in the place where a demon had gotten all close and comfy. He wouldn't...do whatever it was that they were saying. What kind of ritual were they talking about anyway...and what would it do? More importantly, why? So many questions, so few answers.

She could no longer hear her friend's hushed conversation.

A part of her screamed to rush in and confront them, to ask them what in the hell they were talking about. She had a right to know but something deep within her, that was dark and scared, kept her from doing that. Hiding in the corners of herself, she blinked once and stood. Numbly, she walked forward, not really sure where she was going, only knowing that she had to be away from that hut.

The question of why came again but this time she ignored it. She didn't want to know.

Villagers passed her, giving the young priestess odd looks as she walked by. They'd often seen her in such deep thought and the look on her face wasn't unfamiliar. Yet, there was something off about her behavior over the last few days that none could quite put their finger on. She seemed distant, more moody than usual. Her manner bespoke of a restless fear and it was noted by many that she seemed nervous. Jumping at every little shadow that crossed her path, which was quite unlike the brave girl they knew. Concerned, one of the village girls stopped the priestess by setting a hand on her arm. Kagome jumped, squeaking shrilly in surprise as she gazed at the startled villager who stared back at her blankly. She shook the fog from her head again, startled that she'd so easily fallen into her own mind.

"Lady Kagome, are you alright?" rasped the quiet voice of the village girl.

Kagome recognized her. The girl's name was Utako. She was a sweet girl, if a bit homely and slow. The sweetness factor aside, she was still annoyed that the girl asked her that particular question. Kagome scowled, shrinking inwardly at Utako's unconscious wince at her reaction. _Everyone_ seemed to ask her that question lately. Utako waited patiently, looking up at Kagome with wide eyes. The effect of her expression was ruined by the fact that she was quite cross-eyed. It left Kagome feeling soberly disturbed and a bit remorseful for being so harsh to her. Then it occurred to her that the girl was waiting for her to answer her question.

"I'm..." Kagome began, her moth snapping shut as an idea crossed her mind.

Licking her lips in indecision, she touched the mark behind her ear lightly. Her eyes became muddied as she reflected over her choices. Ultimately, Utako could be trusted. She wasn't known for her intelligence. Kagome had probably told her not to call her Lady Kagome a bajillion times, maybe more. But the girl persisted and every time Kagome corrected her it was like she'd done it for the first time. There was little doubt in her mind that anything related to her this morning would promptly be forgotten in the afternoon.

"...I'm fine, Utako." She said breathlessly, eyeing the girl with a considering look, "Would you do me a favor?"

"Of course, Milady!" Utako replied eagerly, her rather plain face brightening with a lopsided smile.

Kagome frowned inwardly at the title but she held her tongue. There were more important things on her mind at the moment. With a heavy sigh, she smiled back with as much emotion as she could muster at the moment, which wasn't that much.

"I think I might have been wounded in the last battle but I can't see it. It's right behind my ear and I'm worried it might get infected. Could you check to see?" She said as slowly as possible, because Utako had a habit of getting confused if she went too fast.

Kagome could only pray that she would have to repeat her instructions once. Because with Utako, you could go over something fifty times and say it the same way each time, and she STILL wouldn't get it. Luck was on her side for once because the girl nodded with understanding almost immediately. Kagome bent down and titled her head, waiting patiently as Utako folded back her ear to look for her "wound".

"I don't see anything, Lady Kagome."

"Check by the hairline."

The girl did as she was told, lightly pushing back the hair to get a better look. At first, she saw nothing but then she spotted a faint dark spot hidden by the priestess's thick hair.

"I FOUND IT!" She exclaimed, plainly happy to have helped the priestess, "I can see it! Right where you said!"

For a few seconds there, Kagome had been overjoyed that Utako had found nothing. Three words took all her joy away. Her face paled and she had to clench her jaw to subdue the defeated sob that threatened to leave her lips. She didn't want to believe it...how could this be happening? Normally, she wouldn't have been so annoyed at Utako for something that was clearly not her fault. She was tired, grumpy, and her patience was at a premium, and Utako's blindingly stupid over- exuberance was NOT helping matters.

And everything was so confusing...she just...

Gathering what little composure she had left, she asked the one question she didn't want to in a soft, pleading tone, "Tell me...what shape is it?"

"Shape?...Huh?" the girl queried, tilting her head in confusion, as if she'd never been asked this question in her life.

"Yes, what shape. I need to know what shape it is."

"Why?"

"Because I do." Kagome seethed inwardly as she answered, closing her eyes in barely restrained annoyance, barely holding back her tears. Why in the world would Utako ask why! And at the thought, her ire became slightly more wrathful, and a dark voice ranted within her "_What an absurd question! Obviously, I asked because I wanted to know, for God's sake! I don't have time for this_..."

"What kind of shape?"

"Like a diamond. Can you see it or not?"

The girl didn't answer for a long time and Kagome could feel the muscles in her jaw twitch. She was so close to either completely blowing her top or bursting into tears that she felt the Gods ought to make her an honorary bosatsu for being so patient. But after a moment the question must have finally sunk in and the girl glanced back at the wound before answering.

"It's...it's like a star...like..." Utako paused for a beat, mulling over how to describe it exactly. After a bit, it came to her and she said hesitantly, "... it's kind of a twinkling shape...sort of like a diamond but pointier than that... It's very pretty.."

She didn't hear much after that as all the color drained from her cheeks. A feeling of cold dread overwhelmed her and it was all she could do to just lift herself from the ground. Her limbs felt heavy and useless, and her mouth had suddenly gone dry. Utako had noticed the sudden change in the priestess. Standing up, she gave the older girl a curious look. Kagome didn't see it. That feeling that she should be away took root again and she listlessly moved forward.

_This can't be happening_.

She paused for a moment and turned to Utako, giving the girl a meaningful look that was both weary and sad.

"Thank you." She whispered thickly and then she turned away.

Utako watched the priestess simply shuffle away with that horrible blank look on her face. And suddenly, she feared for the lady. Something seemed wrong and though she was only a simple village girl, she felt it she would be remiss if she didn't at least try to help the priestess with whatever troubled her.

"Priestess..." she said, moving forward as she spoke, "Priestess, are you certain you're alright?"

Again, Kagome paused but this time she didn't look back, "Yes. I'm fine...I'm just...Just tired, that's all. I'll be fine."

"If you're certain," Utako said, clearly quite uncertain herself and increasingly concerned about the priestess's odd behavior.

"I'm sure. No worries." Kagome replied, waving the girl off as she walked forward with purposeful strides.

She left the village girl far behind her. It was just as they'd said. Miroku and Sango had been right. He'd cursed her for reasons she wasn't sure of and whether it was inadvertent or on purpose, she was even less sure. Sesshoumaru's motives had always been damnedibly hard to sort out, even when they were clear.

..._can't be happening_..._can't be happening_...

..._can't_..._be_...

But this! This was just insanity! Again, she was hit by the paradox that she was human, and he was human hating demon, therefore no matter HOW wrong-headed he might be at the moment...HE WOULD NOT DO THAT TO HER! He couldn't. He shouldn't. He wouldn't even consider it. But he did and it irked her. Not only because it seemed severely out of character from what she knew of him but also because it was just damned arrogant. Just like a pushy demon to do this to her without even asking! It was upsetting and off-putting, and when no solution presented itself, she was only left with the empty question of why, a why which would have no immediate answer that made any kind of sense.

_No, this ISN'T happening!_

The only thing that did make sense was that perhaps, just perhaps Utako had been mistaken. It wasn't like she was the brightest bulb. In fact, she was as dumb as a bag of hammers. What was she thinking? Utako was in the running for village idiot, she only had a pair of brain cells to rub together and between the two of them they barely managed to keep the girl breathing. She'd said it was like a diamond but pointier than that. That didn't even make any sense at all! AND she'd sounded uncertain. The girl wouldn't know a diamond if it hit her in the face and said, "HEY! I'M A DIAMOND!"

Kagome stopped dead in her tracks and slapped herself in the head. She was SO stupid. Utako was obviously mistaken. As were Sango and Miroku. Sometimes it was so easy to get carried away in this era. She often forgot that they didn't know about the things she did. They didn't have the kind of deductive reasoning she had or the benefits of science born logic. All of this was a whole lot of superstitious nonsense. She wasn't a fully trained priestess but even she knew, somewhat, when a spell of some sort had been cast over her. Especially if it was youkai magic, she would have felt it for sure. The mark on her neck was merely coincidental. Conveniently forgetting that science and magic didn't even fit together in the same sentence because there was no logic in magic which was what made it magic after all.

Denial is a powerful thing. Especially when given enough vehement belief to back it up. Just because he had started some god-awful ritual, it didn't mean he was planning on completing it. Besides, they could all be overreacting. It wouldn't be the first time they'd gotten all worried over nothing. Kagome had gradually convinced herself that what was happening to her was nothing to be worried about. She ignored the signs and allowed herself to continue to believe a self-made lie. Her denials were a mantra against her fears of the truth. Despite the plain fact that she had been plagued by dreams of that afternoon. Despite the fact that she had a mark on her neck just like the one Sango described. Despite the fact that she could feel the strings of something tugging at her, the thrall of denial was just too strong.

She had been incredibly stubborn. It was a foolish thing for her to do. A stupid thing. A thing she wished she could change more than words could say.

Swallowing her fear, she'd bid Miroku and Sango goodbye. It had been hard to pretend to be normal but she'd managed it by a hair. The journey to Jinenji's was a relatively short one. Three days round trip. She was comforted by the fact that they'd be back soon. The only possible snag would be if Jinenji didn't have the herb they were looking for. Then the trip would take much longer. Kagome had been prepared for such a possibility but she hoped with all her heart that they wouldn't take much longer. Even if she didn't acknowledge it, her fear of what might happen in their absence was always on the surface.

Yet she repeated her lie in her mind, whispering over and over and over again, "_You're just being paranoid, nothing is going to happen. Everything will be fine_."

Watching the fire-cat and its two passengers leave, it had felt like a bit of her strength had left with them. She went through the rest of the day as normally as she could. Until she had to tend to Sesshoumaru, then her resolve had weakened and her worries resurfaced. She tamped them down, but it didn't stop her hands from shaking so badly that she couldn't even give him his injection. Kaede had noticed her discomfort and had taken over his care for that night, with her direction, of course. In the days that followed, Kaede would be the one she looked to for whatever strength she needed. That night, she'd patted Kagome on her head reassuringly as they left the daiyoukai in peace.

There was no shame in showing fear. No shame in being nervous.

The elderly priestess knew what troubled the young girl, but she'd said nothing. Kagome had almost wished she had, when looking back on things. But at the time, she'd basked in Kaede's calm, grandmotherly manner. It seemed to squash her fears and wash away her worries, making it much easier to deny the changes she felt in herself. She forgot her early horrible early morning realization with Utako and the strange emotions the daiyoukai evoked in her even now.

None of this stopped the dreams that followed. For the first three days that Miroku and Sango were gone, she woke every single morning sweat-soaked and panting. Not from nightmares. No, they were nothing like nightmares. They were much, much worse.

The dreams had started immediately after the cemetery incident and with every day that her friends were absent they'd gotten worse. At first, they were innocent dreams. Most times, he'd appear as that dog she'd seen in her meditation. They were usually in a wide, wild glade, nothing but endless flowers and sun-kissed sky. It seemed to appeal to the more canine aspect of his nature. Her dream-self seemed to enjoy it as well. It was peaceful and she'd seen nothing wrong with it.

At first.

Soon the dream became less like the imaginary space seen in during her meditation. It started to more closely resemble the actual afternoon of the cemetery incident. The change had crept in silently. In the beginning, he rarely came in human form but with the change, it became more and more common. So common that by the time Miroku and Sango had left, he often appeared in her dreams in human form. And with each of these newly changed dreams, the details of the afternoon in question subtly shifted.

It went from a carbon copy replay of that afternoon where he hauled her on his lap for no good reason to gradual levels of increasing intimacy. Soon he didn't just nuzzle her neck, he kissed it. Calming gestures became more sensual. And what was worse, was that she reciprocated those gestures. In fact, her dream-self responded with an absurd amount of acceptance to his touch. Dream-Kagome was far more willing and less afraid than the one that woke up every morning, trying to convince herself that these dreams were nightmares.

Her dream-self's acceptance had transformed into need. Need became desire and soon, that desire became less apart of the dream and more apart of reality. It had become more and more difficult to tend to him with any sense of reserve. She had to force herself not to touch him unnecessarily and it frightened her. Her denials were becoming harder and harder to hold up, and the rising fear within her was harder and harder to quell.

She tried to shut him out, shut the dreams out, to no avail. Whenever she tried to shield her mind, she could feel something, a force pawing outside the walls like a dog begging to be let in. But the thing that scared her, was that she couldn't resist it. She couldn't keep up the shield, she'd let it down and allow the strange force in every single time. She tried to play dumb, tried anything to deny what was happening, but she knew. She knew who was invading her mind and she didn't mind. She should but she didn't and it scared her.

Something wasn't right. Something was very, very wrong with her but she was too afraid to ask for help. Truth was, Kagome was just plain afraid and she wasn't sure what was worse, knowing what this curse might do or not knowing...and wondering if the nightmares she kept having were somehow apart of that.

What made things even worse was her very fertile imagination that came up with far too many gruesome scenarios for her poor brain to handle. She was well on her way to becoming a nervous wreck, if she wasn't one already. Either way, she hoped someone wrote a folk ballad for her. It'd be nice to be remembered after she sunk.

Kaede had to take over her duties because she was terrified beyond reason of what would happen if she didn't. Curse or no curse. Ritual or no ritual. She didn't want to be anywhere near him if he decided to complete whatever it was he started. Despite her precautions, she didn't acknowledge her dread and the sure knowledge that some terrible, unknown thing would happen.

In the end, she didn't know how right she was.

Something terrible did happen.

Something she wished to take back but never would, because despite the consequences, the terrible things that happened to her all those years ago had led to something wonderful. Something she'd never in a million years take back. No matter how much the pain of the events that followed hurt her.


	7. Lullaby to Nightmares

_Glass in hand, lying up in bed  
That's the time to sing this cowardly lullaby  
And you ought to know why..._

_Underneath a shady tree a shadow sitting next to me  
And we stare at the sun _

Lullaby to nightmares, whispered low in the night...

_--They Might Be Giants_

On the morning of the third day, it became apparent that Miroku and Sango probably wouldn't be coming back. There was a storm ahead and even if they were on schedule, it'd no doubt impede their progress. It worried Kagome deeply but she didn't let it show. Kaede and Shippou had done their best to allay her fears and she had firmly tried to put it all behind her. The dreams might continue, but she had convinced herself without a doubt, that...nothing at all would happen. Besides, dreams were only dreams, they couldn't hurt you, just disturb you very deeply. She had stayed clear of Sesshoumaru, which meant there was little chance for the ritual's completion. And even if it did, Kaede and Shippou had been particularly vigilant. They wouldn't let anything happen to her if she suddenly lost her senses. They'd done it before, after all.

On the evening of the third night, she'd managed to put her fears to rest and closed her eyes without regret. Something about the day had chased away the itching underneath her skin. She didn't feel as if she was waiting anymore and she could only guess that was because her friends were close. The evening's rain had delayed them, but they _must_ be close. Why else would she feel so calm?

If she had remembered her meteorology, she should have known that there was always a calm right before a storm. Regrettably, all she was thinking about was the "imminent" arrival of her friends with the cure and the eventual healing and departure of the troublesome youkai who'd started all this.

Until then, all she could do is shake her fist at the sky and continue to curse the darkness, which wasn't nearly as funny as it sounded. Still, nothing had happened and her nervousness had faded a bit. She was still scared stiff, because the unknown was always scary. Thankfully, the unknown had apparently gone away for a long weekend, and hopefully it had taken the stupid curse or whatever with it.

Impending doom was hard to take seriously without the impending part. So, it was logical to let her guard down.

Besides, she had actually slept well that night. A long, uninterrupted sleep that was completely dreamless. And if she did have dreams, they were either one hundred percent Sesshoumaru free or else she just didn't remember them. One way or the other it was the kind of event that warranted some kind of crazy celebratory dance.

Because to her mind it meant that there was no curse and therefore if there was no curse there was no danger to her.

Her mind had jumped mid-thought and she'd wondered if the curse had been the dreams. If so, that curse was particularly stupid and pointless. She figured that perhaps Sesshoumaru would have to write a rather angry note to the curse-makers when this was all over...or perhaps a thank you, depending on whatever it was the curse was supposed to do. One way or the other, she was free of it, which led to a mini-dance party in her head, complete with disco ball.

In the early part of the morning, she woke up. She'd always been a bit of an early waker as morning was her favorite time of day. This particular morning, she'd woken much earlier than she ever had before. Not that she minded much. Yawning fiercely, she stretched. Her awareness was muzzy and she could have happily continued to lie where she was, which was somewhere halfway between waking and sleeping. Her sleeping bag was insanely comfortable this morning. She burrowed further in after another good stretch just to prove her own point. Warm, comfortable and well rested, Kagome smiled sleepily as for one shining moment all was right with the world.

Time caught up and she wasn't able to deny that she was awake any longer. The sun was streaming in, the birds were chirping. Morning beckoned. Wrinkling her nose, she yawned a second time, stretched a third time and opened her eyes. She blinked slowly as she tried to focus on her surroundings, inwardly lamenting that her vision hadn't been the same since she caught pink eye the year before. It always took her an extra few minutes to clear her eyes in the morning, or so she thought. Eventually the bleary film over her vision cleared but it didn't spur any desire on her part to move from her spot. She gazed at the ceiling for at least ten minutes, then the fuzzy interior of her sleeping bag. Then at Shippou's head, which lay next to her own. He was hogging the pillow again. She exhaled halfheartedly. Her gaze moved to the slatted windows.

The first rays of dawn had brushed against the sky, though the sun itself hadn't peeked above the horizon. Morning had just barely begun and soon it would gather momentum. But for now it was content to take it slow. Chasing away the night wasn't a duty one rushed.

Kagome chuckled tiredly and with a wry little grin, she thought to herself, "_Besides,_ _Amaterasu-o-mi-kami was always rather shy_."

She shifted in her sleeping bag, trying to find a comfortable position. When none was forthcoming, she chose to lie on her back and stare at the ceiling some more. It was waaaaaaay to early to be awake. She should go back to sleep. The ceiling agreed but her stubborn eyes remained open.

_"Stupid eyes," _She grumbled inwardly_. "Always_ _seeing things when all I want is sweet, sweet sleep_."

Mumbling quietly to herself, she reluctantly sat up and gazed at her companions in the hut. There was a small stab of jealousy that they were still asleep and she was not. The urge to wake them up rudely entered her mind, but left just as quickly. Mostly because they both looked so comfortable that she'd feel too bad if she woke them up now. Kaede was fast asleep and being older she probably needed the rest. She was also snoring rather loudly, which brought a small, amused smile to Kagome's face. Shippou was still cuddled closely to her, even though she'd shifted position. He was just as deeply asleep as Kaede was, only less noisily.

The kit protested a little when she untangled herself from his grasp. He made a very cute, very disgruntled whine, his little forehead wrinkling in displeasure as her comfortable warmth left him. She bit her lip to contain the "AW!" that rose in her throat. He was sometimes so cute it bordered on evil. Or just guilt trip worthy. She tucked him back into the sleeping bag which he snuggled into. The unhappy frown on his face disappeared as he fell back into safe slumber. Her eyes softened slightly as she patted his head tenderly. He made a happy little 'mrrrf' sound before burrowing more deeply into the sleeping bag until she couldn't even see a tuft of red hair. Kagome laughed quietly at the Shippou sized lump in her sleeping bag. Shaking her head, she went to gather the extra clothes and hygiene essentials she kept in her backpack. An early morning bath sounded like just the thing to get the day started.

The river would be deadly cold this time of year but the whole process would go a lot faster without having to worry about who might "accidentally" stumble in on her. She half thought about making a trek over the well so that she could have an actual warm shower. Gods above, that'd be nice. Ah. But fate was fickle. She was rid of her number one and number two bath time stalkers but she was also lacking anyone to protect her on the way to the well. Not that she was worried about being attacked. And not that she couldn't defend herself, it was just...the walk to the well was damned creepy and she hated going it alone.

Souta would laugh so hard if he knew. It was really his fault. Making her watch Ringu that one time and now whenever she went near _her_ well, she was reminded of the other, creepy movie well. She bet he was over on the other side right now cackling about it. He knew those kind of movies weren't her cup of tea. And with all her time traveling...through a well, she might add...showing her a movie with a nasty well demon in it was just cruel. He HAD to know what he was starting up. Stupid well was creepy enough without his help. Now it was doubly so.

It just gave her the wiggins and all sorts of other icky, blecchy feelings when she even looked at the thing now. The next time she went home, she was going to sock him in the arm and hopefully give him some kind of awful muscle cramp. Or maybe she'd threaten to use the shikon no tama to wish herself into being an only child again.

A small, devious smile crossed her face before it faded.

It was a funny thought, anyway.

Sighing tiredly, she rejected the going home plan for the quicker, but much colder sponge bath plan. She wouldn't get as clean but she was prepared to deal with that. Going to the feudal era was sort of like camping. There were some discomforts you just had to put up with but over all it was worth it for the experience.

With a wistful smile, she stepped out of the hut, supplies in hand, ready to start the day. A sharp pain slammed against her chest the minute her foot met the ground. The gravel crunched and skittered beneath her sandals as she tried to keep herself upright. Her hand lifted to her head as she fought her ever wavering vision. Another jolt of agony hit her so forcefully that it knocked the breath right out of her. She gasped shrilly as she staggered back. Her fingers lost their ability to grip and her things tumbled from her grasp, landing haphazardly on the ground.

_What the_...

It slammed into her a third time. Her eyes fluttered as she fought for breath. One hand at her temple, the other clutched to her heart as she fought the wrenching, source-less agony. The pain passed and faded briefly, only to flare with renewed vigor. It attacked every sense and she found herself struck deaf, dumb and blind to anything but the dancing lights behind her eyes. Gasping raggedly for air, it abruptly brought her to her knees. Her belongings scattered around her, she dug her fingers into the earth just to ground herself in something other than pain. Shaking like a leaf, eyes wide and staring into nothingness, Kagome knew something had gone wrong. And not with her. This was not her pain. It was his. There was no question in her mind. Something had happened to Sesshoumaru.

A thought entered her mind, dark, swift and definitely unwelcome.

..._is this it? Is this what it was supposed to do_? _This can't be happening_..._ can'tbehappening can'tbehappening can'tbehappening_..._not happening_...

Swallowing hard, she summoned her own power to push back the clenching waves of agony. Once she was herself again, she reacted as she always had, acting before thinking things through thoroughly. One thought pervaded her senses, she had to get to him, she had to stop this...whatever it might be. She sprinted back into the hut and grabbed her bow and arrows. Her footsteps were thunderous in the small and quiet space. The sound woke Shippou up and he groggily followed her fleeting figure as she flew out the door.

She didn't hear his softly spoken query or the indignant invective hurled at her as she left. She didn't hear much at all really and she couldn't have been bothered to care. There were more important things going on right now and her panic had begun to take hold of her common sense. She ran towards the cemetery, not noticing that she'd forgotten to put her sandals back on when she exited the hut. Her bare feet hit the dirt, the gravel digging itself deeply into the soft flesh but she didn't feel it. No physical pain could penetrate the raw cloud of emotion that overshadowed everything.

Heart thudding in her chest, she skidded to an ungraceful stop once she reached the cemetery. She gulped for air, her breaths coming in and out in harsh, labored gasps. He wasn't here. The cemetery was completely empty, as it always had been before he came. For a nanosecond, she doubted her sanity because there was no evidence that anyone had been here at all. No evidence to suggest why he wasn't here. It was like he just disappeared off the face of the earth.

Deeply confused, she blinked twice as if that'd help in some way. Her mind was weary and just not just prepared to process mystery. The static beating of fear still tore at her as well as the lingering pain that occasionally lanced through her chest. It made it very hard to think. The best she could do is gaze in befuddlement at the empty cemetery. Then she noticed the small droplets of blood near Rin's grave. She knelt down and dipped her fingers in it. Rubbing it between thumb and forefinger, her eyes narrowed. The blood was still fluid...liquid-y. It wasn't gooey or viscous. Meaning it was fresh. She looked up and then around, her mind going from tiredly inquisitive to full alert in less than a second.

Her eyes followed the small droplets near Rin's grave. There were more that led away. She followed the trail like a bloodhound, mildly noting with some worry as the droplets became larger and more concentrated. Soon she wasn't following just droplets. It was a full on gory blood trail. Said trail led away from the cemetery and deep into the woods. She darted forward heedlessly, her concern becoming more and more evident as she followed a trail that splashed the forest floor. The dark crimson stains were everywhere, smeared on the trees and the bushes, across leaf, bark and bough.

She thought as her eyes trailed over the forest, "_Why me? Why is it always me with the death and the horror?_"

It was everywhere she looked. Panic was too subtle a word for what she felt. Even fear wasn't an adequate enough explanation for her current emotional state. She was following a blood trail that led to god knows what. And there was a constant warning tug on her heart. The thin line of his youki that had wrapped itself imperceptibly around her aura constricted and loosened. She hadn't even noticed it was there until now. It was where the pain had stemmed from. The implications were terror inducing and not welcome. Perhaps it was _this_ Sango was worried about. Kagome's knowledge of curses and rituals was squat, but this did seem to fit a pattern. If only she could see the larger picture...

"_What the hell kind of curse is this anyway_?"

But the fact remained that she could feel him now. Not just in a vague, amorphous 'AH! AH! THE PAIN! THE PAIN!' way like before. But she could really feel the weariness in his limbs as if it were her own. He was tired. He was weakening. And she ran that much faster, towards what, she didn't even want to begin to guess.

The forest whisked past her in a blur of green and gold, until all movement abruptly stopped. She stumbled directly into a battle. Watching youkai fight had always seemed to her like watching Souta playing video games. Everything was too fast for the eye to perceive, so she could never tell who was winning until it was all over with. Except with youkai there was no triumphant 'YOU WIN' screen, nor was there that aggravating 'You Lose' screen or the almost derisive 'You Died' screen. There was just the youkai that walked away alive and whatever pieces were left of its enemy littering the battlefield.

Her eyes darted at the clashing figures before her, drawn to them with a morbid kind of curiosity. Black, white and bright gold flashed against the deep, echoing confines of the forest. It was unnaturally quiet, except for the sounds of battle which seemed to resonate loudly. Strange, that silence could be so loud.

Sesshoumaru's youki whip flashed out in the half-light, cutting down his formless enemies with grace that came far too easily. Even when he was sick and near out of his mind he was perfect. If the situation had been less serious, Kagome could have been tempted to be very annoyed with him.

Dark shapes surrounded him, slashing at him. They circled around the dog demon like snakes waiting to strike. For a moment they stopped their seemingly ceaseless movement and she could see them for what they were.

_Kamaitachi_...

She'd seen them before but something seemed off about these ones. Kamaitachi were a kind of demonic weasel that would attack travelers who traipsed unknowingly into their territory. They were mostly harmless, to demons anyway, and though they'd been known to attack human travelers, there had never been a fatality associated with their attacks. Usually, they just attacked you till you left their territory but these kamaitachi seemed to be attacking out of the blue. Besides the fact that she would have known if a nest of kamaitachi were lurking around Inuyasha's forest.

She would have known because Inuyasha would have known. He was never one to let other demons impinge on his territory. So, these kamaitachi must have been sent. If they'd been sent, then there was only one soul in the known universe that'd do it. This all stunk of manipulation, _his_ manipulation. She narrowed her eyes, gauging the aura of the attacking kamaitachi. Yes, there was something off about them.

They never attacked this viciously or this powerfully.

And then she could see it. A slight glow emanated from their foreheads.

"_Shikon shards_..."

She watched the kamaitachi as they let the daiyoukai catch up to them. His chest was heaving in exhaustion and though he had no visible wounds, his clothes were tattered and bloodied. They waited, gazing at the dog demon as if they'd found a glaring weak spot. Then they began again, swiping at him with wide, dark arcs. He held his own against them, lashing out with his whip and claws. But they were too fast and he was far too weak. They swarmed over him like leeches, and he fought back as well as could, until he was free of them. To her eyes, they seemed as if they were just playing with him and she was sure he knew this. If he'd been more rational, it probably would have annoyed him. In the dimmest part of his mind, he'd regrettably surrendered. He was too tired to fight off another wave, and he just couldn't summon the power to resist any longer. But outwardly, he hadn't given an inch.

The kamaitachi stopped again, circling him like a band of hungry sharks. He stood defiantly against them. Watching them with his reddened eyes as they surrounded him menacingly and even in his degraded condition he looked the part of a formidable enemy. Still as imposingly cold as he was when at full strength. The kamaitachi prepared to launch another attack on the beleaguered Western Lord. They began whirling in the air, the circle of their spinning forms coming closer and closer to the ever silent Sesshoumaru.

She couldn't continue to just watch. It was the utmost of foolishness to pick a fight with a group of strong youkai when she was alone. She was only a human girl with very unstable holy powers that only occasionally worked the way she wanted them to. But she couldn't just let them do it. She couldn't let a bunch of lower youkai kill Sesshoumaru. Not like this, with the odds stacked so unfairly against him.

He wasn't a friend.

He wasn't an ally.

But he wasn't really her enemy either.

Whatever he was to her, she couldn't allow this to happen. It was inexcusable and it would stop, so help her god. Even if he had cursed her, the arrogant ass.

"_For Rin_..." She whispered to the wind and anyone else who might hear it.

With a focusing sigh, she simultaneously raised and strung her bow. She tensed a bit, steadying her shot as she narrowed her eyes and aimed. Hesitating for a moment, she waited for a clear shot and when she found one, she let the arrow fly. It screamed across the clearing trailing brilliant violet light behind it. The arrow missed by a mile, but it did succeed in getting the kamaitachi's attention. At the very least, she served as a rather reasonable diversion for the kamaitachi, and perhaps it'd give Sesshoumaru a few crucial minutes of recovery time. And she could be proud of that for the few seconds of her life she had left.

"Don't be so negative, Kagome." She grumbled inwardly at herself, as she drew her bow back for another shot.

She aimed, her eyes gazing down the arrow's shaft. Dragging her teeth over her lower lip, she squinted. Her fingers tensed a moment before she breathed in deeply and with a soft exhalation, she let the arrow fly. This time it was on target, hitting one of the kamaitachi straight in the chest. It was engulfed in a light so violently bright that she could barely see her target as it disintegrated into pieces. Luckily, her lack of control worked in her favor this time as her overly-powerful blast had also consumed a second kamaitachi as it flew behind its brother. However, the lead kamaitachi remained unscathed. And it hadn't slowed its pace. Grimacing, Kagome desperately fumbled for an arrow, which she dropped. She cursed and dipped down to retrieve it. Curling her fingers around it, she looked up. Her eyes widened and with numb fingers she drew her bow. "Too close. Too close," she thought with a vague kind of apprehension. The hollow sounds of the arrow being released reached her ears. It sailed through the air, a pure holy light slowly searing the wind that screamed past it.

Her eyes widened as it neared its mark.

The kamaitachi cleverly veered to the right, evading the deadly power behind her arrow. Evading its death and hastening hers.

She closed her eyes and prepared for the inevitable. But whatever inevitability she was waiting for never came. Instead, the time she was taking to make peace with the gods was broken by the sound of a whip-crack. The whole world seemed to stop on a yen as her eyes flew open. The last kamaitachi hovered above her, its sickle like arm drawn back and ready to strike. But it didn't strike; it just hovered there as if frozen. She blinked. And the kamaitachi twitched. It twitched again. Then a third time before its body was torn into three neat pieces, which stayed airborne for just a moment before exploding like a rather spectacular geyser.

Her eyes bulged in surprise and fear as she tried to comprehend what had happened. The only thing that came to mind at the moment was that she was most likely going to get dirty again. Looking down at her arms, she realized with dissatisfaction that she was covered in weasel blood and guts. _Damn it_. Kagome mentally shook her fist and cursed the darkness for the second time.

Her eyes strayed from her outstretched hands to the dead weasel, the vacant look on her face seeming to ask its corpse what the hell had happened. It didn't answer, which, to Kagome's mind, was extremely rude. The damn thing had exploded all over _her_, and the least it could do was be decent enough to explain why.

Uncomprehendingly, she stared dumbly into space as the mental dust cleared. When it did, there was only her and Sesshoumaru in the little clearing.

"Oh.." She said, feeling a bit of surprised fear as realization broke the horizon.

The world was still, as still and unmovable as he was. He stood like an imposing sentinel in the middle of the glade. His chest heaved from exhaustion and his lips had curled into a silent snarl.

Kagome froze solid when his gaze was turned on her.

The battle had been short, too quick really. She thought she had saved him. She thought she was in time. She was very wrong. His eyes were an almost soulless black. They were thick and dull, covered over completely in darkness. She couldn't even see the pin-prick of his pupil anymore. And she realized then that the shark was him and not the kamaitachi that had hunted him. The Shikon shards she thought about retrieving were forgotten, as was any other thought that might come to mind. A cold shiver of pure, unadulterated fear ran through her.

_This isn't happening_..._It is_..._No, it isn't_..._why_...

Whatever rationality he had was gone and all that was left was animal. The bestial snarl on his face hadn't faded and the silence that had hung so loosely over the glade was broken. He growled low in his throat, and suddenly the snarl on his face wasn't so silent anymore. His muscles were tense, taut, as if he were about to spring into action. He was on the edge of something and whatever that something was...it didn't bode well for her, being that she was what currently held his not-so-friendly attention. A sudden and very unwelcome realization crashed into her brain.

There would be no more special exceptions for her. She was just like everyone else to him now. His mind would boil things down to enemy and friend. It had no room for anything that wasn't black and white. There were no grays.

She wasn't his ally.

She wasn't his friend.

She wasn't anything to him.

Not when the beast within him had taken over. It was a monster of black and white decisions.

He moved suddenly, walking forward with a relentless stride that was terrifying in its calmness, its pure grace. It was like watching a predator stalk and corner its prey, and she would have been fascinated had she not been the prey in question. He was deadly and inscrutable; every move he made was calculated to provoke a response in her. Even uncontrolled, he was in control and his control of her was absolute. He moved, to make her move, to drive her where he wanted her to go. To herd her into making that life threatening mistake she was trying so hard _not_ to make. It was a classic predator's tactic and she recognized it, and she refused to be caught so simply. She wouldn't go gently into...early morning as it were. Kagome inhaled shakily, raising her bow with trembling hands.

"S-s-s-stay buh-b-back...Duh-don't move!"

Clumsily, she notched an arrow and slowly drew the bow back as she was taught. He didn't follow her suggestion. If anything, he moved a bit more languorously but he certainly didn't stop. Her fingers trembled badly and she had a hard time keeping her grip firm but loose. It was as if he was daring her to shoot him, providing her with an easy target to show her how unafraid of her he was. Licking her lips, she tried to control her breathing. To focus on the routine as Kaede had taught. To feel the earth beneath her feet, she shifted her stance. She adjusted her grip, and made sure that her hand was at eye level. Taking several more calming breaths, she gazed down the arrow shaft, following it and her finger as she aimed at the daiyoukai. He was so close now.

"S-s-stay back." She said, as sternly and as calmly as she could.

He didn't. In fact, he barely moved at all now, walking so slowly it as if to mock her.

"I said, stay back..." She choked, her fear getting the best of her as he came closer, "I'll shoot...I'll shoot if you don't..."

Those shark-like eyes narrowed menacingly. The same low, horrible growl emanated from his chest and it was even worse now that she could hear it better. Now that it was closer than she liked because he was closer than she liked.

"I mean it." She whispered fearfully.

The tension had gotten to her fingers and she could see her bow visibly shake. Even this close she'd miss at this rate. She tried to replace her calm, but the fact that he hadn't stopped and she didn't want to shoot him prevented it from happening. There was no way to reclaim it. She didn't want to...she didn't think she could...it wasn't her right...she'd tried to save him...she'd failed...thoughts of curses and rituals seemed so silly now faced with death incarnate. This was life and death. This was the end of a game she hadn't even known she was playing, and no matter how it ended, everyone lost.

"_I'm sorry, Rin_," she gasped harshly at the thought, feeling a sob crawl up the back of her throat.

He was coming closer. His lone hand was opening and closing in anticipation of the blow he was sure to land if he came any closer. The anticipation of the kill. The anticipation of her death.

"STAY BACK!" She shouted as he closed in, coming within feet of her, "I'LL SHOOT! I SWEAR TO GOD, I WILL!"

He apparently didn't care, growling at her to get his point across. It almost sounded like a derisive sneer. For a single second she faltered, she hesitated in her resolve and he saw it. She knew he saw it. Her entire body was trembling with fear, which was becoming harder and harder to control. She licked her lips again, swallowing hard as she found herself feeling quite thirsty. A thick wall of cotton had formed inside her mouth and she'd do anything to be rid of it.

Damned fear. Her eyes didn't leave Sesshoumaru. They stared at him with a sick kind of fascination. The kind reserved for something that caused so much fear that you didn't want to lose track of it. Her palms were sweaty and she worried that she might drop the bow or fudge the shot because of it. The temptation to find away to wipe her hands off was mind numbing and hard to resist. She gritted her teeth, her face pinching with concentration. Kagome reached within and tried to summon her holy powers. She tried to funnel that energy into her arrows as she always had. It had never been easy, except in a situation like this when her life was on the line; her power had never failed her. But she was having trouble with it...her power, her aura. It just wasn't there.

It would flare to life and then die. Flare and then die. Flare and then die. Flare and then die. Flare and then die. Flickering like a flame in the wind. Or a car engine that had stalled in the middle of a busy intersection and she was stuck in traffic now and a truck was barreling towards her and she just wanted the GOD DAMNED CAR TO START!

Bright purple surround the arrow with a tang of pure, holy power. Without a thought, she let it go while she could. She didn't even aim, trusting the arrow to do its work on its own as it had with the kamaitachi. It sailed towards her target full of deadly intent and at amazing speed. She had fired wildly like this before but her skill had always been lacking. If it had been Kikyo, well, she could fire wild and not worry about it hitting. She was that good. But not Kagome. She had to trust to luck even when she aimed. So it was with a bit of surprise that her arrow looked like it'd hit its mark.

Even if she didn't want it to.

It flew straight and true, right at where his heart should be and she held her breath. Just before it hit, he caught it as easily as he had once before. He waved the power off the arrow like it was an annoying pest, effectively neutralizing it without even breaking stride. Sound dulled into near nothingness, and all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears, the wind through the grass and his soft steps.

This deafening silence was broken by a loud crack as he broke the arrow in two between his fingers. He cast it away like it was nothing, his head tipping downward as he neared her. Numbly, one of her feet began to shift backwards. He was so close. _Too_ close. And her sense of self preservation kicked in. She let go of her bow, dropped her quiver to the ground as her brain began its complex machinations to determine its next move.

_Fight._

_Or flight_.

Something inside her snapped like that arrow and she did the only thing her brain screamed at her. The only thing that made sense in that moment.

She ran like hell.

* * *

NOTE--Any author's notes for this chapter can be found at my writing community, Yume Jinju, Live journal. A link for this community can be found in my profile! Questions/Comments can be directed there, as well as my email address...which is also in my profile.

Thank you everyone!


	8. Dig My Grave

_Every time I look in your eyes  
I see Saint Peter wave _

Dig my grave

_--They Might Be Giants_

As fast as she'd run earlier, she ran even faster than that. There was very little in the way of thought. Her mind had turned itself over to her most primitive instincts. There was nothing beyond the sound of her pounding feet and the harsh rasp of her breathing.

_"You shouldn't have run,_" she scolded herself.

Reason had long since been overwhelmed and Kagome's mind was too far gone to care. She didn't know where she was running to. Nor did she know how long it'd take to get there, if she ever did. As long as she was running and the direction was away from the danger, then she was fine. That was good. That was just fine.

She ran until her sides hurt and she could barely breathe. Then she ran just a bit farther than that. She ran until her feet were raw and bloody. She ran until her body was screaming at her to stop, until it threatened to give out from underneath her. And only when her legs became wobbly, unsteady lumps of gelatin did she even slow. She finally stopped just short of turning into a giggling pile of flesh and hair.

With her hands braced on her knees, she stopped to catch her breath. Distantly, she hoped that she'd run far enough but something deep down felt that she hadn't. She didn't hear him pursuing her. There were no sounds in the forest to indicate anything following her, so she reasoned she was safe. It was quiet here. There were birds chirping, the wind rustling and her own labored breathing, nothing else. She strained her ears, listening for the telltale signs of an enraged youkai crashing through the forest. There was nothing and the dull haze of adrenaline began to lose its hold.

Her fear muddled mind had forgotten how fast and silent Sesshoumaru could be when he wanted to. Once his attention had been gained, nothing short of the end of the world would drag it away. He'd pursue his goals with relentless silence and he wouldn't stop until they were achieved. She'd forgotten that despite his condition, he was still a dangerous predator known for his uncanny stealth and single minded determination.

Her forgetfulness was a dangerous, possibly fatal mistake and one she'd come to regret in the very near future.

Unaware of her surroundings, she inhaled and exhaled slowly. It felt like she was breathing fire, hurting so badly that she was wracked with an uninterrupted coughing fit that lasted several minutes. Her throat was incredibly dry and she tried to clear it, gasping harshly as she attempted to breathe more normally. Slowly, her body caught up with her but exhaustion was laying heavily on her. She was tempted to fall into the grass and just pass out. It looked so comfortable to her weary eyes. Instead, she let out another series of barking coughs before spitting the loose phlegm from her throat.

She wrinkled her nose and thought, "_My, how un-ladylike of me_."

She just bet Kikyo never spit like that. And that thought brought a rather amused smirk to her face. There was at least one thing she knew she did better than the undead priestess. Yes, the great Higurashi Kagome had one singular talent she could laude over Kikyo. She could most definitely out spit her. Her mother would be so proud.

Straightening out her stiff back, she stretched, working out muscles that had begun to cramp. She was able to think clearly again, despite the overwhelming exhaustion in her limbs. Looking around, she took in the glade she'd happened upon. It was a small clearing that was surrounded entirely by the forest on all sides. In the middle of the glade was a rather large boulder and running right through it was a stream. Kagome realized then and there that she didn't recognize her surroundings at all. She was lost in the middle of the forest. How far had she run? The answer was pretty obvious, really far. Far enough for her to completely lose her bearings.

She frowned and then sighed, deciding that she didn't care at the moment. Her number one priority was to get some water and sit down for at least five minutes. Maybe pry out the assorted rocks and slivers of wood that had embedded themselves in her feet. After that, then...and only then would she put some thought to where the hell she was. She was pretty sure she'd given Sesshoumaru the slip. Her only concern now was circling around and back-tracking to the village. Hopefully, not running into the youkai she'd just fled from before she got the chance to get more help. She pinched her lower lip between her teeth. What if he'd found his way to the village? Gods above, she hoped he didn't. She prayed that he didn't find his way back. Prayed that he wouldn't, not before she had a chance to get there first to raise the alarm and evacuate everyone.

For now, she had herself to tend to. She hobbled around the clearing tiredly. Kneeling by the stream, she checked it carefully before taking an experimental sip. She shrugged. It seemed okay and so she gathered several handfuls of water. Gulping them down as if she'd spent a week in the Sahara. She splashed her face with it, washing off the sweat, dirt and dried youkai blood so that she could feel remotely human again. Dragging her wetted fingers through her hair, she used them to untangle it. With a long sigh, her gaze shifted to her dirty, mangled feet. Another weary sigh left her lips. Play time was over. She needed bandages for her feet, and bandages she would have. Looking down at her pajama pants, she realized the sacrifice she'd have to make. It was a terrible world she lived in...and she really liked these pants too...

Nimbly, she began working at the hem of her pants until they ripped which wasn't as easy as it sounded. Once the tedious part was done, the real work began. Using her thumb and forefinger, she carefully dug out every last splinter and stone that had made themselves at home in her flesh. It was a mind numbingly painful process and once it was done, she took the liberty of sticking her feet into the cold stream for several minutes. It not only relieved her pain, but it cleaned them off as well. Grimacing, she determined that after all this was done, she was SO going back home to take a very long, uninterrupted bath.

Escort or no escort.

Creepy well or no creepy well.

After the most agonizing thirty minutes of her life, she stood up on newly bandaged feet and looked around the clearing dreamily. Wherever she was, it was the most beautiful place she'd seen. At least, it looked that way to her now. She'd often looked death in the face during her travels here, but never before had it seemed so certain to her. And she was glad she was here. Glad she was safe, for the moment anyway. With a deep sigh, she limped into the middle of the clearing, approaching the large boulder. The sun had risen a bit higher in the sky. She looked up, and squinted her eyes as she stared at it. It might be warm today. That'd be nice. Still, it hadn't occurred to her, what with all the panicking and all, but it was still a little chilly. As the day wore on it'd probably warm up a little, but that didn't help her right now, neither did the fact that she was still dressed in only her pajamas.

In the safety and comfort of Kaede's hut her little tank top with matching pajama pants combo was an okay ensemble. But on a chilly spring morning, not so much. It didn't help matters that her pajama pants didn't so much resemble pants as they did very tattered shorts. Now her legs as well as her arms were exposed to the cool, moist air. She shivered and brought her hands up to rub her arms lightly. The large boulder looked like an inviting place to warm up. She vaulted herself up and sat down. It was a bit damp and added to her chill, but the sun would probably take care of that if she was patient. And luckily, the rising sun decided to poke through the canopy at that moment. It blessed the little clearing with a fair amount of warmth and Kagome soaked up as much as she could.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. At least one good thing came of all this. She had one pristine moment of pure, unadulterated peace and it was intoxicating. Perhaps the morning was salvageable after all. Yawning widely, she pushed back on the heels of her hands and basked in the sun. She sat like this for a very long time. The world moved around her and she barely cared a wit. It was pleasant here. Quiet. And that was a good thing. A welcome thing after the excitement of this morning.

After a bit, the cold crept in again and the soreness in her muscles made itself known. Her feet were pulsating in pain, they were all hot and it hurt and stuff and she really wanted to go home. It'd be hell walking all the way to the village on her very injured feet, but at least they were somewhat covered now. Sighing, she supposed she should just get it over with, no matter how distasteful the thought of walking in her condition might be.

She scrunched her face up and stretched, procrastinating just a few minutes longer wouldn't hurt anything. Holding her arms out in front of her, she flexed her fingers several times before reaching up with one hand to massage her neck. She grunted as she massaged, the bones in her neck cracking a bit as she worked out the tension. Her hands made their way down her back, knuckling the muscles to get the kinks out. Yes, there would be much bathing and soaking when she went home. The clearing was beautiful and it had been a great place to catch her second wind, but it was definitely time to go. She yawned again, her eyes opening languidly mid-stretch. Her eyes widened and she froze.

Standing in the previously empty clearing was Sesshoumaru and he did NOT look pleased. Somewhere along the line he'd lost his tattered haori. Now clad in only his hakama, his gaze bore down on her. His bare chest heaved as he breathed raggedly. The wounds that covered his body were plainly visible and bleeding in the morning sun. It was a tribute to his strength that he stood there unflinchingly, though he made a rather gruesome sight. Anyone else would have passed out by now, demon or no.

Kagome could have only hoped that he would have passed out, but being that fate hated her and all, he hadn't. She gulped, looking around for a possible escape route. There were several options, none of them really good. Slowly, she slipped off the boulder so that it became an obstacle between them. This didn't make Sesshoumaru happy and she could only tell this because he growled softly. The sound caused her to freeze, staring with wide-eyed apprehension as she waited for him to do something. But he didn't make a move and the tension was killing her.

She searched the ground surreptitiously for some kind of weapon, a rock or a stick...or anything she could use against the youkai. Nothing of use. It was futile anyway. A rock or a pointed stick would hardly be enough to stop Sesshoumaru when actual weaponry couldn't even handle the task. Anyway, attacking him was a last resort. A direct conflict with him would require extreme desperation on her part or a death wish. She wasn't quite desperate yet and she certainly didn't feel like dying.

So, it was running again. Adrenaline surged at the prospect and she had to force herself to control the panic. It hadn't helped her before and she realized this time she'd have to be a bit craftier about it. This time she'd have to make certain he wouldn't catch up with her. She'd have to outwit him. The only flaw in this plan was the outwitting him part. Sure, he was in the thrall of a powerful bloodlust right now but he was still Sesshoumaru. He wasn't like Inuyasha, who was rash and didn't bother to think things through. He was quite the opposite, cold and calculating, his mind might be all instinct, but it was that very instinct that made him so dangerous. So good at what he did. It wasn't the instinct of a foolish child; it was the ingrained instinct of a born and bred hunter.

Staring at his silent visage for a beat, she decided that planning was pretty much useless. She was like Inuyasha, doing her best and worst thinking on her feet. There was little chance she'd out think Sesshoumaru anyway. Bolting away from the rock, she took off in the opposite direction from where Sesshoumaru stood. Not the brightest idea, in fact, it was pretty blatantly stupid, but Kagome was willing to own up to her idiotic choices. Sure, it was predictable but she always believed in trying even the stupidest plans. You never know when one might work out.

She felt a bold moment of triumph before reality came crashing in on her. Running forward blindly, she collided with a solid wall of reality. She hit it with such force that she lost her footing and fell backwards, her arms pin-wheeling in the air uselessly. Landing hard on her backside, she gave a pained glance up. Sesshoumaru had been the wall and he was glaring down at her with eyes voided by dark ichor. He snarled and lunged. She rolled to the side just barely and jumped to her feet, not taking time to marvel at her unexpected grace despite the fact that her feet pulsed in pain. With little to no thought, she took to her heel again and ran like a bat out of hell.

He appeared before her again, effectively cutting off her escape route with little trouble. She'd forgotten about his speed, and skidding to a stop, she changed direction abruptly at the last minute. In a blur of white light, he blocked her path again. Her reflexes failed her and when she tried to skid to a stop again, she lost her footing. She landed on her side, skinning the flesh on her arm and hand. Back-peddling, she scrambled to her feet. He stood facing her. She stood facing him. Neither of them moved. Both were breathing harshly by this point.

Kagome licked her lips, realizing that she really did HAVE to have a plan. Otherwise, she might not get out of this alive. She watched him warily. When she stopped, so had he. When she moved to the right, so did he. To the left, he followed. If she stepped back, he stepped forward. He wasn't going to let her go, yet he didn't seem all that intent on simply catching and killing her either. It was as if...as if he was waiting for something.

She didn't care to find out what that was.

Making as if she was going to start running to the left, she watched him follow. She sped up, and quickly feinted to the right, barely slipping past him. Grinning inwardly, she felt a puff of air as she passed him. _It worked!_ Or so she thought.

Any triumph she had was deflated instantly as she was yanked backwards. She twisted away but only because he let her. It didn't matter to her how she escaped; only that she did. Breaking into a stumbling run, the world narrowed to a pinpoint. She didn't even get ten steps from him before she was hauled backwards once more. Everything blurred into a world of formless color as she was wrenched around. She was thrown to the ground in a tumbling heap. Left to gasp for breath on the ground, her hands clenching uselessly as she tried to stop the world from spinning. Pushing her palms to dirt, she lifted herself up and attempted to stagger away. She was thrown back again. Confused and disoriented, Kagome didn't do much more than just lay there, gasping for breath like a stranded fish. The shark took its opportunity and clenched her in his figurative jaws.

One minute she was breathing, albeit with a slight bit of difficulty, the next, she was not. She'd been grabbed around the neck, and hauled off her feet so that they dangled several inches off the ground. By instinct, she grabbed the wrist attached to the hand and began clawing at it in a feeble attempt to force the person behind the hand to let go. She whimpered hoarsely as spots danced in front of her eyes. Her throat burned with the need to breathe. Dimly, in the very back of her mind, she realized she was going to die. She didn't want to die, but she didn't know if she could fight.

Her face crumpled in pain and with her consciousness fading fast, she tried one last gamble. Concentrating, as well as she could all things considered, she summoned a purifying fire. The power flickered for a moment before it burst from her fingers, crackling briefly. As quickly as it had come, it faded. It flared to life and then died no less than three times before it finally did as she wanted. Her mind screamed with manic desperation as nothing happened. She could feel herself fading, and the cries inside her mind became dull, listless things. Despite this, she still tried to pull her power from within, tugging the mental strings connecting her to the divine with weary anxiety. Black had seeped into her vision by this time and she could feel everything sinking away from her. The world was cast into darkness and she hoped that the ballad they'd write about her wreck would be really, really good. Shrieking violet light brought her back from the darkness, erupting from her skin like a nuclear explosion.

The sudden blast of power unbalanced her attacker and though it loosened his grip on her neck, he didn't let go of her. His hand snaked out and caught her by the shoulder. Claws dug into her flesh as they were blasted backwards together. They hit the ground at the same time, tumbling and rolling from the sheer, ferocious momentum of her attack. Coming to an uncomfortable stop, the glade went absurdly quiet. And as the dust settled, it was Kagome who was the first to regain her senses.

She groggily opened her eyes a crack, wincing at the pain in her shoulder...and pretty much everywhere else. Her palms were a mass of abrasions and dirt, and it hurt like hell to even think of using them. But it had to be done. Sadly, her arms didn't really feel like obeying her. They lay at her side like two big, heavy things and she realized ruefully that they were entirely useless, at least for the moment.

"Well, this just sucks..." she hissed under her breath, groaning in defeat.

She buried her face in what she thought was the ground. But then she realized that the ground wasn't quite so pliable and sweaty smelling. The ground wasn't smooth or soft and though it was squishy sometimes, it wasn't nearly as squishy as what her face was pressed into. Though to be fair, it was sort of a taut kind of squishy...like it went to the gym kind of squishy.

It was with white hot fear that she realized where she was, it was a sudden and definitely unwelcome realization. On top of him. She was on top of him. _She_ was _lying_ on top of _him_. Not even able to say his name without embarrassment, she blushed fiercely before regaining her senses.

Bolting upright, she attempted to scramble away from him. Something jerked her back and in her panic she tried to free her captured hand with animal desperation. But nothing would loosen his hold. Pain lanced through the panic and she abruptly stopped struggling.

She sat silently in front of him, trembling like a leaf while he held her wrist tightly in his hand. His claws bit into the thin flesh of her wrist. It was uncomfortable but hardly agonizing. Wincing a little, she stared at him with a look of annoyance mixed with wild-eyed fear. He gazed back at her with clear exhaustion. His eerie black eyes pierced her own with a lucid, yet vacant gaze that was highly disturbing. It made her uncomfortable and she tensed, pulling her wrist a little to test his hold on her. She paused, frowning a little as she wondered, absently, how the hell she was going to get out of this alive and intact.

His mouth hung open as he gasped for breath. Each inhalation and subsequent exhalation was followed by a disturbingly thick shudder in his chest. It sounded quite a bit like a death rattle, much to her dismay. She tilted her head, taking a long, hard look at him and really looking at him, he looked bad. Really, really bad. Like on his death bed bad.

The skin around his eyes was sunken in and darkened, giving him a hollow look. Like a ghost or a drunk who gambled his entire fortune away. His skin was naturally quite pale, but it seemed to have reached a new level in the last few days. It was nearly translucent white but with a waxy complexion. Even his markings seemed to be affected by his illness. The magenta stripes on his cheeks were thin and so light that they were barely visible. Kagome had to squint to see them. The crescent moon on his head had fared a bit better. It was still visible, but it had faded to a pale blue and its edges were almost indistinct as it began to blend with his skin. His hair had dulled and hung limply around his face. The excess of effort this morning had taken its toll on him and he could no longer suppress its effects. She hadn't had any idea that he was in such a bad way...had she known...

She furrowed her brows. Any fear had long since disappeared. She'd been everyone's medic for the last few years and it was just instinct by now to jump from fighting to caring for another's wounds. His hold on her wrist began to loosen as somewhere deep inside it registered to him that she wasn't going to leave. It tightened briefly and he pulled her close. She squeaked in surprise but didn't resist. Thankfully he hadn't pulled her into his lap again but he was still much too close for comfort. All the same, she stayed. And in return, the hold on her wrist loosened considerably. If she really wanted to, she could easily tug her hand out of his grasp but she didn't. He still could attack her and part of her was waiting for it, but he didn't.

He was too weak. She could see that now. More than see it, she could feel it. Through the strange connection to him, she knew it. But there was more. Being so close to him, she could feel the heat of fever radiating off of him. She could see the bright flush in his cheeks. His breathing was harsh and raspy, and the sound seemed to echo in her ears. Each inhalation was a struggle. Each exhalation was forced out with slow urgency.

And she could do nothing but sit here, waiting for a cue...for some sign that'd tell her what she needed to do.

He did nothing.

He sat quietly in front of her, wheezing and panting with his hand still placed limply on her wrist. His head bobbed as he tried to keep himself upright. He stared numbly at the forest floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. His eyes opened and the closed several times, each one slower than the last, as if he was fighting off sleep. She watched with fascination as they closed for what seemed to be the last time. His head bowed slowly and he leaned forward, his bangs lightly brushing against her own.

She swallowed hard, biting her lip in agitated anticipation.

His eyes opened again, slowly, so very slowly. Blinking languidly, his gaze seemed to shift towards her face. Something escaped from under his lid and she took it for a tear until it ran down his face. The not-tear was a raw and open rivulet that flowed like a river across his flesh, staining a trail behind it in brash crimson. Another fell and then another and another, until his eyes were overflowing with it and his cheeks were awash in a steady stream of reddish-black fluid. It was with horror that she realized what it was she was seeing. Blood. He was bleeding from his eyes.

"Oh...God..." She exhaled, her voice sounding hoarse and helpless.

This was the last stage of the poison. Miroku had told her about it. Warned her that if he started to bleed from his eyes that it was too late and if that happened, what she should do.

Miroku's deep and sonorous voice echoed soundlessly in her head, "_Put him out of his misery, Kagome."_'

The end would be too long and painful, and even Sesshoumaru didn't deserve such a death. She knew what she should do but something inside her wouldn't let her do that to him. It wasn't right, a youkai like him being felled like this. Under the influence of a powerful poison, only to be killed by human, it was degrading, and all for the amusement of Naraku. No, this wouldn't stand. She wouldn't...couldn't allow one of Naraku's dark schemes to succeed.

Her face crumpled and gently, she reached out to wipe away the blood that stained his cheeks. The minute her hand neared his cheek, he leaned into the touch as if he craved it. His cheek came into contact with her hand and as tenderly as she could, she cupped it. She gasped, feeling overwhelmingly strange emotions war within her. This wasn't right but she couldn't stop it. She shouldn't have such power over him. To make Sesshoumaru, who hated humans so much, want her touch...to lean into it as if he was receiving a prize. It was deeply, deeply wrong. And what was more was that somewhere inside, she didn't mind. She wanted it almost as much as he and it was wrong. Maybe that's what the problem was. Its wrongness. Compassion was a good thing but too much compassion could get you into trouble. Yet here she was, throwing caution to the wind.

She shut out the nagging voices and curled her fingers, gently wiping the blood from his cheeks. His eyes closed and he looked almost relieved. Wiping her hands on her pants, she repeated the process on his other cheek. Not that it mattered much, because they were both soon caked in blood once more. But it was the gesture that counted.

His breathing slowed and became considerably more labored. The hand around her wrist went entirely limp and she felt him gradually lean forward as the rest of his body followed suit. He swayed abruptly and collapsed into her waiting arms.

"S-S-Sesshoumaru!"

She struggled with his limp and unyielding body, trying, with increasing desperation, to keep it from crushing her. That he was heavy was no surprise, exactly how heavy he turned out to be, was.

"...Omfph..." She let the strangled sound out, grimacing as she felt her back giving out.

Kagome wanted to cry at that precise moment. She wanted to cry like the world's biggest baby for a number of reasons, none of which she was at liberty to list. There were just too damn many, though the foremost being that she didn't want to be here with him like this. It was bad enough when Inuyasha got all screwed up, what with not having control of his demon blood on account of him being a hanyou. She understood his problem. His problem made sense. Sesshoumaru, now there was a conundrum. She sort of got the gist of his current problem but it was still hard to wrap her head around it. Yet what could she do? Crying about it wouldn't help. And this was where the conundrum part came in.

First, she might have a changed opinion of him, but at the same time, he clearly didn't like humans. If he was in his right mind there was no way he'd accept her help, even if he needed it. Sure, he sort of initiated the helping phase on his own but she chalked that up to his being currently bereft of sanity. So the question was, should she help him? She was so unsure. Not just because she was uncomfortable with the idea of helping a pseudo-enemy but also because...this all just felt wrong.

The things that Miroku and Sango had mentioned had finally penetrated the thick layer of stubbornness that kept her from seeing more clearly. This could lead to that ambiguous danger that Sango had mentioned. This...this...whatever it was she was contemplating could bring the ritual full circle and if it were completed, what would happen? She didn't know but something had to be done. And from out of nowhere, the funny sounding foreign word came to mind. The one that sounded like it was out of some obscure Indian sex manual, which was a rather disturbing thought and one she spent exactly NO time thinking too hard about.

_Kanya Samprayuktaka..._

Sango had said something about strengthening auras. Perhaps it was as innocent as that, but she wasn't so naive as to believe any spell came without cost. Something would have to be given in order for the ritual to work, and what that might be and whether or not she was willing to give it was the crux of the issue.

Would the end justify the means?

She really didn't know...


	9. Where Your Eyes Don't Go

_Every jumbled pile of person has a thinking part that wonders  
What the part that isn't thinking isn't thinking of  
Should you worry when the skull-head is in front of you  
Or is it worse because it's always waiting where your eyes don't go?_

_--They Might Be Giants_

She should follow her instincts, that's what her mother had always told her. When a situation doesn't feel right, follow your gut. Damned if her gut was having a hard time making up its mind. One side was grumbling that she should leave...post-haste...and the other argued that she had a duty as a healer to say. The healer in her won out, as always. Besides, she'd promised Rin and you don't back out of promises made to the dead.

"Damn it all..." She hissed, wincing as she shifted his weight off her shoulder.

She'd managed to have him sort of support himself. His head and chest was propped against one of her shoulders and she'd wrestle with him to switch when it got too uncomfortable. At first, she'd been trembling scared but as time went on her fear magically transformed itself into annoyance. Mostly due to the fact that the blood coming from his eyes was currently making its way quite happily down her arm.

"_Why me? I mean, really!_," she thought indignantly.

Why was she plagued by men with overly pretty hair who got themselves into hopelessly life threatening and desperate situations that inevitably led to her own discomfort as well as the eventual ruination of her clothing?

Lightly, she shook him and he barely responded. Her fingers accidentally brushed against his neck, which was covered by long tendrils of pale hair. His skin was warm to the touch, much too warm. It actually burned with fever, so hot that she wasn't able to linger on the spot. Hissing through her teeth, she pulled her fingers away and looked at them curiously. They were slightly numb and she rubbed them together thoughtfully, entranced that she could barely feel her own fingers. Staring into space, she collected all her thoughts, even the ones that didn't make much sense. She'd kept herself from the link he'd created that stupid, unspeakable afternoon which had changed everything. Normally, if she'd shut herself off, she'd feel him pawing at the walls. But there was nothing and that was worrisome.

Anyway, nothing would be served by getting hysterical over things that may or may not happen. She was still herself and no amount of supernatural bubkiss was going to scare her. Hell, she'd faced scarier things than this. There had to be a way for both of them to get out of this unscathed...and not involving possibly dangerous, life threatening curses. There just had to be. Besides, no matter how hard she wished not to be here, nothing could change the fact that she was. Furthermore, like it or not, he needed her. Of course, once he was better she was sure he'd be incredibly ungrateful. The ass would probably insist that she never speak of it again, and she wouldn't, most assuredly. This fact wasn't going to stop her from helping him out. There was no doubt in her mind, she was needed here. Maybe that's why he chased her. Maybe he knew he needed her help and being without his more coolly logical side, he gave into that urge. Or something like that. Who knew really?

It wasn't like Sesshoumaru was the world's most open book. For all she knew, he could have been chasing her for that ultra super secret recipe for muffins she'd been hiding all these years. More likely, his youkai pride simply wouldn't allow him to lower himself to beg a human for help. So he forced her, the big, stupid, soon to be ungrateful jerk.

Now he couldn't. He was too weak to. She just bet that deep down he was resenting the fact that he'd even have to stoop so low as to force a human to help him. Bet he just hated the idea and now he really had no choice. Now he was at said human's mercy to either help him or leave him to die ignobly in a field.

Cradling him in her arms, she pushed back the hair that'd plastered itself to his neck. Black, diamond shaped splotches marred his skin right around the area Kaede had pulled the dart from. They seemed most concentrated around the juncture between his neck and shoulder. The splotches moved upwards from there, spreading across his neck and right up to the back of his ear. In the very same places he'd "examined" on the day that must not be spoken of.

She absently remembered Sango speaking of a mark...a mark on her neck. She had a mark on hers, he had a bunch of similarly shaped discolorations on his in nearly the same spot and the pieces of the puzzle came together. The mark was ritual and reciprocal, if she were to guess. Just last week Kaede had lectured her on aural weak spots. With deep aggravation, she realized she hadn't listened quite as carefully as she should have. She'd spoken about chakras, and how to open them to heal or if it were necessary, to hurt.

"Shit..." she exclaimed softly, balling her hand into a fist as she squinted, struggling to remember what it was the elderly miko had said, "Work, brain, work!"

In her head, she desperately tried to recall the chakras and their placements and meaning. All the while, the daiyoukai in her care was losing precious time. She imagined she presented a rather ridiculous image, sitting there in an open glade, murmuring to herself while she cradled an injured inu-youkai in her lap.

Quietly, she recited what Kaede taught her despite the frequent frustration she felt at her brain's inability to remember anything. When it finally decided to work, she almost let out a hoot of joy.

"Sahasrara, Ajna...Vishudda..." She proclaimed triumphantly to no one in particular. "Crown, head, neck...the Vishudda chakra is located in the neck!"

Kagome allowed herself a pat on the back, not only because she actually remembered one of her lessons but because she'd correctly applied it. The discoloration on his neck was evidence of an aural weak spot, meaning that he'd used a chakra...or a variant of the concept. That chakra controlled communication and rituals using it were generally intended as a way to reach gods, spirits, etcetera, etcetera...or as a conduit for otherworldly powers. So, if she were to guess and guess she did, it was possible he'd opened up the Vishudda chakra to strengthen his own aura and it being the throat chakra it was no wonder that's where the mark appeared.

But something puzzled her.

If he was using it as a conduit and the mark was a gateway that went both ways it'd allow him to draw directly from her aura while siphoning his through hers to cleanse it. It should have slowed the poison, thereby extending his time on this earth while he waited for the cure. Mostly likely it had slowed, somewhat...but there was still something off. Something wasn't right. If he'd opened up that chakra for the ritual, he should be getting better. He'd been drawing off her for days...so why was he so bad off? She looked more closely. Her neck was where he'd concentrated his youki but the point of contact on his neck was blocked somehow, therefore this was where the degradation began. Either way, whatever it was he intended to do hadn't happened and he'd just gotten worse.

She wondered then about the poison, maybe it was blocking it somehow. Surely, poison being his weapon of choice, he was immune but judging by the state he was in, it was quite the opposite. Perhaps his natural poisons had aided the Kindoku, thereby blocking any positive effects that ritual was supposed to bring. Maybe his poison had allowed the Kindoku to bind itself more tightly to him by pretending to apart of his body. It didn't act much like a poison at all...more like a virus or the youkai equivalent of a virus and virus like, it had infected that which would spread it faster. Too fast, perhaps fast enough to block or nullify the intended remedy...it was a long shot but it sort of made sense to her, anyway.

In any event, the Kindoku had begun to feed on his youki in earnest and he suffered for it. Probably would die from it if something weren't done soon. Being forced to fight and defend himself using his youki had done him no good. It had exacerbated his condition quite badly. If the Kindoku had indeed fused itself to the poison in his blood, as she thought, then it had gotten the chance to take a nice little trip throughout his body, drinking more fully from his aura as it went. She watched the disgusting little black diamonds visibly increase in size and in number. He had very little time left.

Her fingers gently touched blacked parts of his neck. She ignored the unnatural and uncomfortable heat and the dreadful numbness that spread through her fingertips upon contact. There was only one choice now, she'd have to unblock the Vishudda chakra and finish the ritual. She'd have to do _that_ thing that he did on that afternoon, whatever _that_ was. She didn't pretend to know what might happen if she did. She did know that if she could figure it out, she'd help him...maybe even save him, what danger this involved and the possible consequences of her actions were negligible. For Rin's sake...even for his, she'd do this.

No matter that he would be ungrateful to her...or very possibly homicidal.

No matter that this was drawing her down a dangerous path.

No matter what Inuyasha and her friends would say afterwards, this was the right thing to do.

The only thing to do.

With a look of determined apprehension, she righted the youkai in her arms so that he was in something approaching a sitting position. It wasn't easy; she had to shoulder most of the burden herself, quite literally, as his entire weight rested on one of her shoulders. Trying not to think too hard, she guided his head as best as she could to the place he'd examined before. There was the barest hint of a reaction from him as he turned his head ever so slightly, instinct guiding him into doing what was necessary to survive.

Trembling uncontrollably, she pressed her hand over his blemished neck, wincing as she could feel the heat invade her flesh. The sensation was unpleasant, painfully so, and it took every bit of will power in her to resist the urge to tear her hand away. Gritting her teeth, she took a controlling breath and concentrated more fully. In her mind's eye, she could see his aura and the living black miasma that was choking it off. The Kindoku was like a weed in a garden, it grew and grew, subsuming all other vegetation in its zest to reproduce itself.

The ebbing tide of her power was crashing against the walls in roiling turmoil. It could feel the taint of true darkness and it wanted to purge it. It warred with the more rational parts of her mind that held it back, afraid that it would burn all that stood in its path. The nature of her power was quite the opposite. It wanted to quash the fire that burned, to put it out and end it for good or for ill. It burned her flesh that touched the wound. It burned her mind and it was trying to burn her spirit as well. It burned all it touched. She could feel it using that line of his youki that attached them to suction power from her as well, but she wouldn't allow it.

She shuddered, her eyes opening a crack and she saw the hand she'd laid on the youkai's neck. It was plastered to the flesh, a bright purple glow flickering between splayed fingers. She noted distantly that her hand appeared to be smoking as if on fire. Breathing in deeply, she confirmed this rather disturbing fact. Her hand was smoking because it _was _being burned as the poison tried to etch itself into her flesh. It hurt worse than any torture her mind could devise and she closed her eyes tightly enough to cause tears. Concentration was becoming quite impossible as the pain was unreal. The sickness had imbedded itself into the gold aura intertwined with her own, and it was grasping for her. She was penetrated by it, surrounded on all sides by a consuming blackness that overwhelmed all. Every sense was tuned to the agony it caused and her mind went blank in an effort to manage the pain.

Spasming, there was a dim realization that somewhere along the line she'd made a miscalculation. Merging spiritual essences wasn't something a novice, like she was, tried without guidance or experience, unless, of course, they had no choice. She knew this, but hoped that by just following the exact events of the previous merging everything would turn out all right. But this wasn't anything like the last time this happened, and that was just the problem. She couldn't replicate the original event because the main participant was currently half-dead. It was no languorous afternoon encounter, comfortable in it strangeness. No, this was suffering on a level she didn't even know existed.

Her soul felt as if it was being torn apart, a feeling which she had unfortunately an accurate measure for. She could feel his pain and it only added to her own. Sweating and trembling, she made nearly noiseless gasps to quell the agony, her hand quite literally burning with pain. The smell was unbearable. It felt like her flesh had been seared to his and she wanted to pull away so badly, but it hurt too much to move.

All thought blackened as waves of agony overcame her, the holy power inside her desperately fighting off the darkness that had begun to consume. Her eyes fluttered and she could feel her grip on the conscious world waning. She struggled to maintain the shreds of her thinking self and the control it gave her, all to no avail.

Kindoku is a living thing. It wasn't an inert poison that was content merely to travel through the bloodstream to do its job. It sought out its prey, targeting the systems it wished to destroy. And destroy it did, with perfection that was nearly beautiful for its sheer belligerence.

The aura it had been feeding on was drained and almost worthless; it felt out for another potential victim. An aura that was clean, healthy, and quite pure. It didn't matter what it was, the poison didn't like to discriminate. It couldn't distinguish between Sesshoumaru's demonic aura and the divinity in Kagome's ki. All it could feel was new, untainted energy and it fell upon it, pressing into the crashing waves of purifying energy attached to the now entirely useless youki.

This new agony was too much. It hurt beyond imagining, beyond words, ripping through her like a sharp, stinging tidal wave. Kagome threw her head back and screamed. All control was lost. Something inside her exploded and burst outwards in a raging torrent of purifying energy. It flowed from her like the ocean as it breeched the retaining walls during a storm, battering anything that dared impede its passage. Rushing forward, it consumed the poison. Crackling across the darkness, it left nothing but light in its wake.

Curiously, the purifying flood had directed its power, only attacking the Kindoku while leaving the youki surrounding it intact. In fact, her aura seemed to insulate the youki as it burned away all but the slightest traces of the poison. And once the flood leveled out, and the waters ceased to rise, there was a pregnant pause as the gold youki her aura protected temporarily recovered its strength. What she'd accomplished was a momentary fix, but it had rather instantaneous results.

The once nearly comatose daiyoukai woke with feral fury, his eyes snapping open to glare brightly in the dim pastel light. When they turned their gaze on her, she couldn't help the surprised gasp that left her lips. Those eyes, those eyes burnt into her soul, and she didn't want to look directly in them for fear of being caught, but she couldn't look away. Moments ago they were black like midnight, cloaked by the sick taint of the poison. That sickness had lost its hold and the curtains over his eyes were thrown wide.

With another burst of energy, his youki broke free. A whiplash of bright gold surrounded him like mid-morning fire. His hair was lifted by the force of its exit as it stretched, reaching out to all life around it as if grasping for purpose. It pushed into her chest and she could barely breathe. The smell of orchids and rain overwhelmed her, and though it wasn't unpleasant, it seemed to sit on her chest like a stone.

Without provocation, he snarled and lunged at her. Abruptly, the world spun, and she was vaguely reminded of those spin toys they had when she was little. She used to sit on it for hours just spinning until her head reeled. In a frightening nod to her childhood pastime, scenery whirled 'round and 'round and she was so very dizzy, though this time was less pleasant than it had been in the past. Just as suddenly as it began, the spinning stopped. Disoriented, Kagome barely realized what had happened as she was slammed unceremoniously into the ground with Sesshoumaru's hand buried in the earth right next to her head.

The sickly sweet smell of his dokassou filled her nostrils. It made her feel dizzy and nauseous. Her eyes fluttered as she struggled to remain conscious. She concentrated on the blurry image of melting earth next to her head. Absently, she worried about her hair and its proximity to the rapidly disappearing ground. Her eyes widened fractionally as she watched the green light gathered in his hand sputter. It winked in and out like a broken neon sign before disappearing all together, leaving nothing more than smoking earth behind. She blinked, breathed in tentatively and coughed; silently glad that'd stopped before reaching her hair.

Errant droplets of half dried blood fell on her cheek not far from her eyes, startling her from her reverie. She shook her head uncomprehendingly, her eyes gazing upward to look for the source. The source rather inconveniently turned out to be Sesshoumaru. She stared at him, eyes wild and staring as he in turn glared back at her. It was there again, the fear for her life had returned and it was thick and heavy, hanging at the back of her throat. Her breath hitched, and she felt herself exhaling and inhaling in fits as starts as it overtook her body. She was trying very hard not to panic, key word being trying. The occasional plips of blood that hit her cheek and his unwavering gaze tended to distract and draw her attention. It was all rather nerve wracking.

It quickly became obvious to her over a nice twenty minute stretch of time that killing her apparently wasn't apart of his great plan. Or maybe it _was _part of the plan and he just moved it back without even informing her of the scheduling change, which was very rude by the way. Though she supposed it wasn't so bad, seeing as she'd have an extra few minutes of life. So perhaps she could forgive his rudeness for now. Then again, he might not have a plan at all, which wasn't much like him. But everyone should be given a little slack under such extraordinary circumstances.

To her eyes, he seemed untroubled by most of this. He just sort of hovered above her quietly, like a very bored god, with his hand still stuck in the dirt. It didn't seem to bother him though, it was almost as if he meant for it to be there...not doing the green poison death mist thing that he normally did. Maybe he wanted to make a nice hole to plant flowers or something. Maybe the dirt was therapeutic. Maybe it gave his skin that bright new glow. Whatever it was, he hadn't moved from the spot he occupied above her.

His youki had receded a bit, but still twined around him, lifting his hair by its own will. It made for a bit of disconcerting image, he was so still but everything around him moved. Very disconcerting indeed. She watched with a kind of benumbed fascination as a droplet of blood hovered on his cheek. All that blood that had washed over his face had begun to dry, but errant droplets, like this one, still fell. It was thick and viscous. When he moved it would jiggle a bit and then drunkenly drift a bit lower on his cheek. For the last five minutes it had hung from his chin, and she bit her lip in anticipation for its fall. It did fall, with almost deliberate slowness. Her breath caught, inhaling sharply as it hit her chest.

She couldn't see exactly where it had fallen but she could feel it. Her breathing became more rapid as she felt it expand minutely over her breast. One part of it trailing towards her neck, the other spreading down her cleavage, and it tickled terribly. She closed her eyes and squirmed a bit to try and relieve the discomfort. Arching her back, she tried to guide the droplet back towards her neck, hopefully speeding it prog--It was then that she realized her current position _under _Sesshoumaru, as if she hadn't noticed it before. Truth be told, she hadn't really thought about it...until now. The tickling sensation began again as she abruptly flattened herself against the ground. Everything was made worse by the fact that Sesshoumaru had taken notice of this embarrassing predicament.

Oh, he was staring down at her right now. Staring right at the widening droplet of blood smeared all over her chest. His eyes seemed to soften and though still reddened in blood rage, there was a distinctly contemplative air about them. Absurdly, he reminded her of a very large dog waiting for someone to throw its ball. There was a patient anticipation and latent curiosity in his eyes as he just watched. She'd never seen someone so focused on such a simple task. It was as if the world could fall away in an instant and even then, his gaze wouldn't waver...his attention wouldn't hesitate. She was aware, more than ever, of his youki, which was so lively and animated as it curled expectantly around them both.

Sucking in a large quantity of air, Kagome lay completely still. She wasn't sure freezing was the right tactic to use, but she was out of options. Biting her lip, she stared at the daiyoukai, trying her best not to breathe too much. He inhaled and then exhaled sharply, the puff of air lightly pushing back errant strands of her hair. There was a low sort of rumbling sound coming from him that she didn't much care for. Unconsciously, she flattened herself further, perhaps hoping that she'd somehow dematerialize through solid ground, only to reappear somewhere else far away from him. Defying physics would be a pretty neat trick, if only she was the physics defying type.

Being that the laws of physics hated her just as much as fate did, she remained stubbornly immutable and unable to disappear through solid matter. She could only hope that by miraculous fortune he'd lose interest in her and leave. Rather than doing that, he lowered himself so that he was closer to her. No longer hovering above her, cloud-like, he brought the rain to her. He was quite close, almost lying on top of her. His chest just touching hers and she tried to breathe more shallowly than before. A part of her wondering how little she could breathe without passing out as her chest rubbed just slightly against his. Ah, for the days when she was merely an annoyance to him. She almost longed for those times when he'd insult her humanity before telling her to die or, better yet, just ignore her all together. Yes, ignoring would be nice right now.

None of her current thoughts were helping. They only served to make her more panicky and consequently, they made her breathe harder which made her touch him, starting everything all over again in a viciously annoying circle that just had to stop.

It didn't.

She bit her lip harder and closed her eyes tight. There would be NO encouraging the out of control demon. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she could never get herself calm enough to NOT touch him, consciously or unconsciously. He was too warm and she could feel his breath on her skin and it terrified her, because he was so unpredictable. She wasn't sure if he was going to kill her or...kill her...and she really didn't want to die like this. In her dirty pajamas on the forest floor with a rock wedged in her back. Kagome tried to calm herself, to meditate and bring some kind of control. She had to be clear headed about this, but she couldn't. She was just too nervous and afraid. Her breathing was becoming shallower and more rapid, and she could feel herself tremble. It made her want to cry, which really, really wouldn't help things.

She let out a nearly silent squeal as she felt the semi-forgotten droplet of blood elongate, trickling over her neck. It teasingly trailed around the nape before it escaped down the other side. Drizzling down her back and no doubt further staining her tank top. She could feel it back there, all wet and squishy as it soaked into the fabric. It made her more aware of the rocks and the twigs underneath her, more aware of just how uncomfortable she truly was. Kagome grimaced as she tried and failed to resist the urge to squirm, it was just too uncomfortable. Without thinking, she tried to surreptitiously work a hand to her neck to wipe it away. Her movement was accursedly slow and she was so focused on her task and the anticipatory tension of relieving some of her discomfort that she hadn't noticed that _he_ had noticed. He had felt the minute moving her muscles, and her shifting position, no matter how slight. When she began to wriggle with just a bit more vigor, it had gained his full attention. It was taken as a sign of resistance and his reaction was immediate and harsh.

He let out bestial snarl, fangs bared. Instead of taking on a more submissive posture, she stiffened and looked up at him in surprise. Her eyes were wide and challenging as she shrunk from him. More disobedience. She let out a small cry as he clamped down on her shoulder, biting her just hard enough to let her know who was in charge but not enough to harm her.

Kagome's mind went utterly blank. All thought ceased as his mouth pressed hotly into her flesh. It hurt, but it was a dull, warning hurt. Despite this knowledge, she flinched and whimpered, instinctively pulling away from the thing causing her hurt and pain. He growled lowly, the sound vibrating against her chest as he bit down more forcefully. This time it was hard enough to break flesh, though just barely.

She cried out softly, her entire body tensing and trembling at the same time. Tears came then because she was very sure she was going to die. He was going to rip her throat out and she was going to die. Inuyasha would find her parts many weeks later and how in the world was he going to deliver her parts to her mother? What would they put in the casket? Why was this happening? She was so stupid. She should have never helped him...she should have just gone home and then she wouldn't be here...she should have...

The youkai sensed her tension and found it to be distressing. This was not the correct reaction. He growled more softly and without releasing her neck, though loosening his hold ever so slightly. It was supposed to be comforting, a fact that was lost on Kagome. She inhaled sharply, suppressing her sobs as tears began to stream down her cheeks. Her lips trembled, breaths coming out in hesitant little squeaks. She was going to die here and she wondered if it would be appropriate to make her peace with the gods. Most likely it was. Her eyes had closed tightly, so tight that it hurt to hold them in position, but she did anyway. She didn't want to see the end when it came. She didn't want to even have the last fleeting memory of sight. Breathing deeply, she began to recite every prayer, every mantra ever taught to her. They ran through her mind like tiny flash bulbs, snapping on and off in regular rhythm. She still cried and she still trembled, but she had gone limp in anticipation of the killing stroke...or bite as it were.

The pressure on her neck that felt so constant lessened and a whole new sensation took its place. It was warm and wet where his mouth used to be. Distantly, she wondered if that was her blood leaking out of her newly torn throat. In the confusing blackness, a small voice piped up that if her throat had been torn out it would have hurt quite a bit more, and she wouldn't really be breathing very well, as there would be a bloody great hole where her larynx used to be. The warm, wet sensation continued, unabated, as she did a small examination of her physical condition. She found that she _was_ breathing and that was promptly sorted into the list of things that made her happy. Opening her eyes a crack, she found that the world was still in existence. Or at the very least, she was aware of said existence and that was a good thing, wet, warm feeling aside. Then she realized what that wet, warm feeling was and where it came from.

Three distinct thoughts came to mind at that precise moment.

_Oh my...hello._

_Sesshoumaru licking me now_.

and

_Please stop_.

Not that she was adverse to outrageously handsome men licking her. She was just a bit particular about who was doing the licking and the circumstances of said licking. And this was just unacceptable. It had to stop but there was the large and rowdy question of how. One near death experience in a day was enough for any person. She wasn't sure where she stood in terms of near death experience scoring, but she felt that her day was already chock full of 'em. A girl just couldn't get a break, nowadays. She supposed licking was preferable to the growling and the biting, but if she had a choice it'd be none of thee above. Him licking her was uncomfortable and weird, and clearly, it had to stop because it was getting hard to think. She was trying hard to block out the feeling of his tongue on her flesh. It was a deliriously slow sensation, and despite the unwanted attention, it did feel good, which was bad. All of this led back to the fact that she was having trouble thinking, and her skin was beginning to chafe.

Then his head moved lower, his lips pressing into the skin just above her collar bone and she stifled a gasp. For a moment, she was glad that he'd moved because she really didn't want to have to explain the inevitable hickey. A second later she realized the error in her thought as he sucked on the flesh, lightly licking away blood as his head moved even lower. Dimly, she realized where else he might go. That blood droplet had spread out quite far. He'd cleaned off her neck and was working towards her chest. The next locale he'd head for would be her cleavage...

"_Yes, stopping would be good now_," she thought as she tried to force her brain to work faster.

This was leading to places neither of them wanted to go and again she was hit with a most familiar question. Why did stuff like this always happen to her? Sure, situations like this sound nice in a story but in reality, this really wasn't all that fun. It was very uncomfortable, awkward, and slightly terrifying. Dully, she gazed at the youkai's bobbing head as it moved below her collar bone. This situation was unbearable. It had to stop, it was how to stop it without getting killed that was the real trick. Taking a deep breath, she set a hand on his shoulder and shook it.

"Sesshoumaru," she whispered, tapping his shoulder again, "S-Sesshoumaru...you have to stop."

He either didn't listen or couldn't hear her because he didn't stop at all. Instead, the licking became more languid, almost deliberate in its slowness, as if he was taking his time to enjoy it. It was almost mocking and if she hadn't been a bit scared of him, she'd be really miffed at his audacity. In fact, she was miffed, firmly telling her fear to go screw. She gripped his shoulder more firmly, her fingers just grazing his neck as she shook him. Hard. He stilled, and she wasn't really sure if she was happy about that or not. At least she had his attention, which again could be a bad thing. His head tilted up and he peered at her through his bangs. He presented a very eerie image with his bright red eyes glowing underneath his luminous hair, made all the brighter by the morning sun.

Faking her courage, she smiled and nodded, speaking in quietly placatory tones, "That's right. Stopping is good. We need to go back to the village now."

He kept very still. Kagome was vaguely worried that she might have insulted him, not that she could tell. He didn't move, which wasn't a good thing.

"Please, let me up."

He pushed away just far enough for him to look her in the face. His head cocked, and he seemed to be considering what she said, or maybe he was just considering what he'd do to her when he finally decided to kill her. Her false courage faltered.

"L-let me up. Sesshoumaru, let me up...please, "she pleaded, steadily growing desperation straining her voice, "Please, this isn't right. Let me up..."

Her continued to gaze at her like that. Looking into his eyes became too much of an effort. He moved then, but not up and off of her as she'd hoped. No, he moved in closer to her. He rested his cheek against hers and it would have been a warm, affectionate gesture if it had not been Sesshoumaru. She might have even liked it had it been a certain someone else. He was slow with all his attentions, and with every brush of his cheek against hers, panic rose within her and not just because his cheeks were still slightly sticky with blood. She kept herself from crying but she couldn't stop trembling in fear. Her thoughts had lost any cohesion at this point and her only clear desire was for him to just let her up and stop this nonsense.

Too abruptly, he stopped, jerking away to gaze directly in her eyes. He looked dissatisfied with something, almost outraged. As if he'd ordered the chicken and they brought him fish instead and he clearly didn't want fish. Much like any customer in any restaurant anywhere, his complaint was quickly voiced. He barked at her and she jumped. This too dissatisfied him and his gaze became a glare. He sniffed, reminding her again of a rather large dog which was funny, and she had to bite the inside of her mouth to prevent the peels of hysterical, sanity breaking laughter that threatened to erupt.

She wanted to be out of this situation and then she wanted to cry for several hours on end until she either passed out or threw up.

It was then that he decided to do something entirely unexpected and completely distracting.

* * *

I am evil 


	10. Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head

**WARNING! **The following chapter contains sexual content which is inappropriate for those under age seventeen. If you are underage, please select another story to read.

This chapter has been edited for content. For the unedited version, visit the author's profile for a link. If the link is not available at this time, feel free to email the author. Be advised that the link will not be given out if you are underaged. Thnx!

* * *

_Yes it's sad to say you will romanticize  
All the things you've known before  
It was not not not so great  
It was not not not so great_

_And as you fall from grace the only words you say are _

Put your hand inside the puppet head

_--They Might Be Giants_

He lowered his head, lips hovering just above hers. There was a sharp intake of breath, as she looked up at him with wide, startled eyes. He was so close. TOO close. And she realized something then. From the other side of the battlefield she'd noticed his annoying perfection. Who couldn't deny he was good looking? No one. But up close that perfection passed annoying and without even signaling it drove straight into aggravating. Now to have that annoying perfection right in her face, doing things he clearly shouldn't be doing was a bit on the disconcerting side.

Her disconcertion changed to downright disturbing when he began to sniff her. Proving to her for once and for all that the gods, fate and most likely physics all hated her and had conspired to make her life utterly miserable.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, very, very slowly. He did it again and again and again. Each time was more disturbing than the last. And when he opened his eyes, they bore straight into her and she froze confused and afraid at what he might do because he didn't really seem like he was going to kill her. IF he wasn't going to kill her...then what WAS he going to do? More nuzzling and licking?

God, she hoped not...

She almost missed being afraid for her life as he lowered himself further. With a tenderness someone like him should lack, he leaned in and carefully pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, his breath ghosting against her skin as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. It wasn't a kiss, instinctively she knew this, but it was still just...weird and wrong, and it frightened her very deeply. She whimpered then but kept her mouth firmly shut, unable to hold the feelings of terror at bay. He didn't notice as he touched his lips to hers a second time, his tongue darting out to lick the side of her mouth as a parting gift. She wanted to pinch her eyes closed but they remained stubbornly open, gazing with bald-faced fear at the visage of her tormenter. Her only thought was a petulant and unhelpful lament about 'Stupid youkai and their stupid-ness that they are.'

She just gave up. She didn't really care anymore. She just wanted this whole ordeal over with. Defeated, she lay back and closed her eyes, wishing for the day to just end. She didn't see him pull away, nor did she notice him lightly sniffing the air around her...as if looking for something. He apparently found it, growling in a manner that she guessed was as close to content as it'd ever be as he nuzzled her neck.

She groaned and softly hit her head on the forest floor.

"What did I ever do to deserve this?" she grumbled out loud, much to her dismay.

The youkai nuzzling her neck didn't seem to object or even notice she'd said anything. He was far to busy nuzzling. She pouted, feeling very sorry for herself and very annoyed with him.

"Why don't you just get up?" she said, with a groan and a half sob, "Get up. Get uuuuuuuup. Please, just get up."

She really wanted to cry, but oddly enough, tears wouldn't come. So she had to settle for feeling miserable, afraid and angry all at once, with absolutely no outlet. She honestly couldn't take it anymore. Again, she gathered her courage. If he wouldn't end this madness, she would.

Hands shaking, she placed them firmly on his chest and pushed. It barely moved him, but it served neatly as an attention grabber. He growled softly, but she ignored it.

"Sesshoumaru, stop."

This earned another, almost derisive, growl, and then more nuzzling, as if to say 'Make me'. If she thought she'd get away with it, she would have smacked him over the nose with some newspaper for that. He really did deserve it at this point.

She pushed again, saying more firmly, "STOP!"

Another growl rumbled through his chest, this one lower and slightly more menacing before he nuzzled her a fourth time. She didn't really care anymore. He'd either let her up or she'd die trying. That was really what it all came down to. She pushed a third time with much more force.

"I said, STOP!"

He made a sort of funny half-bark, half-growl before lifting his head in apparent dissatisfaction. Fluidly, he stopped nuzzling the left side of her neck, deciding that her right was being neglected. She was about to up the ante when his lips came in contact with the mark she knew was there. It was as if a switch had been flipped. Her eyes widened dramatically, pupils constricting to pin pricks as she could faintly hear the sound of a bell clapping. There was a pulse deep inside her, and she gasped. Everything went deathly still. So quiet that even the smallest noise sounded like thunder. It was as if everything was frozen in that moment, and the world was too afraid to move lest it be discovered.

Her vision became blurred and sound was muffled. She felt dizzy, disoriented. Fluid reality unraveling behind fluttering lashes, she stared at the sky. _What was happening_? Confusion. Feeling an overwhelming amount of emotion that she could not be sure was hers alone, she tried to force her hands to work...but her muscles felt too loose as if they were made from putty. Everything was torn on the edges like wet paper and when she grasped for clarity, it crumbled mushily between the fingers of her reality.

Head lolling, eyes glazed and unfocused, she tried very hard to continue her objections. Pleading with him to stop, though what came out of her mouth were a series of unrelated sounds that had meaning only in her own head. Hands futilely smacked on bare skin, so she lingered instead. It was hard not to. Smooth and warm, and just beneath her fingertips...she swore she could feel his heart beating.

Blinking slowly, she turned her head to try and look at him. Something was surging from within. It felt like she had lied down on the shore and had let the sea bury her underneath the relentless tide. Hands that once thought to still his movement to stop what was to come forgot their purpose and just felt. She gazed at him with glassy eyed distance, watching him from within, under the crashing waves. Her hand moved languidly, eyes focused on the side of face and the long line of his neck. Staring for several minutes, her addled mind finally registered a very important fact. His neck...the flesh on his neck that had been discolored was now unblemished. Perfectly clear. She touched the area curiously, eyes examining the flesh as if looking for imperfection. The only flaw she found was a little scar in the shape of a diamond right behind his ear. It seemed familiar somehow, but the walls of her mind were sticky and she couldn't pull her memories down. A finger grazed the scar, and intoxicating warmth vibrated through her. Her eyes fluttered and her heart pounded.

In the deep black behind her lids, she could see dancing ribbons of light that curled over the borders in time with a litany of bells. They chimed, and the light grew, changed, bright gold foliage overlapping 'round vibrant violet flora, opening and closing sinuously. Sighing, it echoed. Everything was growing around her and for a second, she could almost forget where she was...who she was. With a crushing gasp, she forced herself to remember. Fingers clawing through the foliage, tearing leaf and bloom as she struggled to the surface. Kicking her legs, she could almost feel the weight of the air so far above her.

_This is_..._wrong_.

Her eyes shot open as she tried to resist the languorous tug of pleasure. It held onto her ankle fast, and wouldn't let her go. _All wrong_. And it tugged harder, she kicked and it held. Struggling, she tried to recite any mind numbing fact in hopes that it'd somehow remind her of things she knew she couldn't forget. Her hand still lay on his neck, just touching the little scar that was a twin to her own. Wearily, she willed herself to pull away, to stop this. _Is this...the ritual._..Her mind worked sluggishly, crawling on the ground as she tried to maintain control over her consciousness. She could feel the spell stripping it all away, holding her underneath the water until its work was done. And she...and she. She couldn't hold on, couldn't keep kicking.

Desperately, her eyes turned to look at her hand as it rested over the scar, faintly rubbing the skin with a single, outstretched finger. From the scar a light flickered. It was a gentle thing, unknown and slightly strange. For a moment, she doubted her own sanity, wiping her eye in hopes that it was a trick of the light. Perhaps an eyelash had gotten in her eye, but the light was no trick. It grew, grew and twined around itself, moving underneath his skin and all she could do was watch with rapt fascination. To her it seemed as if the spell beneath her eyes had migrated and took residence in his flesh.

She could feel it pull at her skin...could feel the dull tingle of power being suctioned from her to him and back again...feeding each other. Violent light twirled, becoming a spiraling shape that whirled in wider and wider circles underneath his skin from hers. The shape moved, grew, activating other shapes and paths, until a crawling river of light flowed across his pale flesh. Even more amazing, the same river moved across hers, though she was gold where he was violet. And when she flexed her fingers, the light rippled.

Her eyes absorbed the light and she was drawn in, compelled to follow the flickering river ever downstream. It was impossible to think clearly with the lights getting in the way. Impossible to think and feel, when she was drifting, drowning in the lights. The last vestiges of rational thought rebelled, using what little resistance she could give to try pull back the reigns. It saw the cliff, it felt the danger and tried to steer her clear. To pull her from the depths of the lull her body and mind were falling into. Her eyes were forced open and she moaned.

She was warm. Too warm. Her heart pounded thickly in her chest, as she breathed in quick pants. Cheeks flushed. The heady feeling of his mouth on her skin added to these sensations, punctuating them as he continued to lavish attention on her neck. He moved in slow circles and it was deviously distracting. So easy to fall into. It went along so nicely with all the other feelings and it was hard to remember that this was wrong. She could feel the pressure of his mouth exerted and it was an anchor, dragging her farther under into the deep. The light emanating from them both intensified, and wrapped around each other. Another bell sounded, ringing loudly in her ears as it reverberated through body and soul.

_The ritual_..._this is_..._wrong_..._this is_...

She thought it was the other, but she was so wrong and she realized, or tried to before her thoughts fell, tumbling away from her. It was like writing on a cold window pane. Her breath fanned across its surface and as fast as she wrote, it disappeared before she could fully understand its meaning. She struggled again, but it was all in vain.

His light was too tightly wrapped around hers, in an increasingly constricting spiral, and she could feel them merge as almost a physical sensation. She shivered, but not because she was cold. Whimpering helplessly, she was overcome by the dizzying sensations pushed down on her. She was drowning, she knew it now. Drowning willingly and she surrendered herself to it. Any resistance she had to what they were being made to do was gone, stripped bare by the light and the bells. She forgot who she was. Forgot where she was. Forgot anything and everything...and nothing at all.

There was a feeling of weightlessness, yet she was too heavy. Gravity tugged her home, desperately trying to keep her earthbound soul from flying out of reach...to keep her feet on the ground while the source-less light tugged her towards the heavens. Earth relinquished its grasp on her, and she let go. There was a gasp and her body arched into his, as if recognizing its own freedom. A hand roved seemingly without true purpose and where flesh touched flesh, more lighted shapes appeared. With every bit of contact, the combined aura that swirled around the writhing couple flared soundlessly.

Her arms hung limply mid-air, fingers just barely touching ground. Gently, she grasped individual stones, dirt, anything she could touch. Her eyes opening and closing, hazily looking upward, and she shivered in pleasure. There was a nice feeling at her neck. Someone was trailing tender, open mouthed kisses across her flesh. It felt good. She looked back up at the sky, feeling the ground beneath her as she left it.

She was here for a reason.

She'd made a promise but she couldn't remember what that was.

The pleasant kissing feeling continued, sometimes intensifying when the kisses became a bit wetter. He moved to her chest and she gasped, almost disappointed when he stopped. The one who kissed her lifted his head and rubbed his cheek against hers. It was vaguely animalistic, and a bit bizarre, but it felt oddly right. Hesitantly, she responded in kind. It pleased him. That was good. Her mind wandered back to the reason she was here...what was it?

_A ritual?_

His hand distracted her. It moved along her arm, grazing her breast. Her heart beat faster and she leaned into it. _Want. _She felt disappointed when his hand didn't linger. _Do you want this?_ Did she really want it to? Something answered yes and she had to agree...it did feel nice. _But it's wrong_. She didn't like that whisper. So she ignored it...it was easy.

The hand trailed down her side and she gasped as his hand slipped beneath her shirt. She was wearing a shirt? She supposed she was. No matter. His hand went beneath it and gently massaged her flesh. She moaned.

..._There was a reason_...

She could hear her shirt being ripped, could feel the cool air against her skin. Her hair whipped against her back and all around her. Errant tendrils seemed to float in place, as if under water. They drifted upwards to mingle with the moonlit silver of his hair. Black and white merging together like the lights did. Like the bells. Everything merged and grew, and they should be like everything. Growing.

Her hands stopped grasping at the ground. She didn't need what she didn't want to touch. Timidly, she reached for him, her hands moving over his flesh hesitantly. Every touch inspired new shapes and this gave her courage, drove the doubting voices away. New avenues of light were made in the wake of her roving fingertips. She smiled, lightly drawing her hands up and down his sides, exploring him. His chest rumbled against her fingers. She kissed his neck lightly and he growled in return. The sound was pleasurable, warm and comforting, and she curled into him. Her face buried in the crook of his neck, she kissed it again, more sensuously, which earned another low growl as her tongue wetted his skin. She closed her eyes, tracing circles on his back, his hand tracing hers in return.

He lowered his head, nudging her face from his neck to rub his cheek against hers, stopping only to lightly kiss her temple. It was a tender, affectionate gesture, meant to encourage and it worked. Emboldened, she mimicked him, nudging him back and placing hesitant kisses on his cheek. These gentle shows of affection built and became less tentative, and more certain, less light and innocent, and more darkly sensual. Their bodies stretched and pressed against each other, the light that drew them together humming through flesh and bone. It encouraged the growing passion in each caress, and drew them further and further away from the surface.

Her hand swept over his back again, fingers splaying...drawing across his spine and she bucked underneath him. Surging upward, she kissed him, her lips pressing against his in a gesture that was all sweet innocence. It was a surprise to him, as kissing on the lips wasn't a common sign of affection in his kind. It was a human thing but no less pleasant. Their lips moved softly against each other, causing her to buck again, pressing more firmly into him, her mouth opening slightly in nervous invitation.

He took it. Applied it and improved it.

Emitting a soft growl, his hand stopped roving and held her harder, pressing her against him until all he could feel was his flesh against hers. Languidly, he moved his lower body over hers, sliding a leg between her thighs. Pressing flush against her so she could feel how she'd undone him. She sighed softly, slowly curling her leg around his hip to press on his back, grinding him into her. She knew what she'd done. He inhaled, controlling desire as his eyes drooped closed, head tilting to breathe in her scent. And it smelled like home. With gradually growing passion, he nuzzled her, trailing more small kisses, nips and licks over her exposed skin.

Their clothes had long ago been discarded as she writhed underneath him, her inexperience showing in her every movement. She wanted, but what she wanted, she hardly knew anything about other than her want. Her _desire_. Her hips lifted, as if beckoning. The gentle motion was like a licking flame, burning every nerve it touched as it spread its fingers upwards. She moved her other leg slowly from underneath him, and he moved with her. The warmth as their flesh touched, the anticipation of being closer to completion, was nearly unbearable.

She maneuvered him so that he lay between her thighs, and he allowed himself to be positioned. They exhaled together, seemingly relieved. Completion was so close. They were working their way to an end and the lights danced in anticipation of it. The river that ran over their bodies flaring as the power they gathered merged more completely. All around them was silence, the world at large understanding the unnaturalness of it. Their bodies were dim and tingling, desire coursing like blood and fire, the bell tolled again. Pushing inescapable fate forward.

He thrust, probing for an opening. She squirmed underneath him, all senses tuned to that pleasure. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pushing him into her and her perception dulled, fading into deep black and all she could do was feel. For long minutes, all he did was coax and tease, and it was driving her insane. She wanted, and he was denying her release, denying her desire. Every nerve tingled with it, called out for it to be satisfied. He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat and she stilled. This was for her benefit, though she didn't know it...and he seemed to tease her then, pushing in and then slowly pulling out as if experimenting. Each not so gentle thrust made her cry out, wanting the pain he offered and denying it in the same breath.

But...it had to be completed. The bell tolled, pulsing with every heartbeat, pushing them on and further into the somber deep, ringing as they followed the light, and the tide that pulled them ever forward.

In a single, simultaneous motion, he bit her shoulder to hold her still and brutally thrust into her. He didn't stop to allow her to adjust and he offered her no comfort in her pain. She was forced to allow the agony to pass all on her own. Her fingers clawed his back as she shuddered, tears pouring down her cheeks. She buried her face into his chest and clung to him. Slowly, the terrible feeling of being torn apart faded and something more pleasurable surfaced, she still felt raw and abraded, but it was superseded by gradually throbbing desire as he moved within her.

He was neither fast, nor slow. Not gentle, but not nearly as bestial as he could be. He took his time in all things. Nothing was rushed, and his strokes were passionately languid. He moved with the rocking sea, adrift on her ocean. Soon she was tilting her hips up and into him, encouraging him to delve deeper with virginally impatient urgency. She moaned breathlessly, eyes opening to gaze at him. His panting visage was blotted out by the sun and she reached for him. Her fingers brushing over flushed skin, tracing the contours of the brightening fire burned into their flesh.

The stream flows into the river, the river into the ocean, and so it was with them. The divine and the demonic merged fully and they were lost, wild and untamed things. Unthinking. Unable to distinguish where one ended and the other began, sharing more than any two beings were meant to share. The air around them dampened, the power they created and shared growing and expanding around them as they writhed, bucked...heaved against each other. Their souls drowning in ecstasy as their cries went from the softest whisper, to sharp, passion filled gasps. They pushed deeper into each other, coming closer to the apex. A shuddering end.

Shrieking pleasure thrummed through her body and she opened her eyes to gaze at the sky. Her hand tangled in his hair, fingers brushing the pointed tip of his ear. She pulled back to look her lover in the eye. He gazed back, golden eyes gone glassy in passion. She was entranced by the intertwined light that sculpted the air around them. His pale hair fanning out like a halo...so white...a brighter version of its brother silver...it reminded her of something...someone...

_Inuyasha_...?

It didn't seem right to call him that. It was wrong..._so very wrong_...no...his name was more ominous than that...more beautiful for it. He was death and life in an endless circle and she was surrounded by him, penetrated by him.

She moaned. His pace quickened. Her heart beat faster...in time with his. Their breathing became labored with it, each of them panting shakily as they teetered on the edge. She strained against exhaustion, fighting to fall over that edge. The sensation of him inside of her was overwhelming, a revelation and it strangled every nerve with pleasure. She could do nothing to relieve it, but lay still, allowing him to slowly build ecstasy only slow down just when relief might come. Trembling, wanting, she panted as again he began to thrust into her harder, faster.

It was all a teasing game and she wondered when he'd stop again or slow down as he had before. But this time, he didn't. She could do nothing in return, but moan weakly, her hands gently caressing his back as she submitted fully. He growled softly and she lightly kissed his collar bone, fingers tracing fine patterns on his back. And he slowed minutely, pushing more deeply inside her.

A gasp. With gradually released passion, ecstasy built and grew. There was a delicate quality to it that was utterly intoxicating, and she breathed into his skin. He into hers. And they were lost. Vision faded as she fell over the edge and she opened her mouth to cry soundlessly. She spasmed and moaned as the universe imploded around her. Everything was dark, warm and it was so deep. Eyes snapped open. She rushed to reach the surface and cried out as the implosion reversed, exploding starlight briefly blinding her. He came slightly after her, shuddering and panting.

Her heart was beating so fast, it was a wonder it didn't break her ribcage.

She sighed, and turned her head. Eyes opening and closing as she recovered and the world came back to her. Her hair swayed in the wind, fingers grasping at nothing. There was a long period of silence as the intertwined couple fell back to earth. It was a slow, laborious journey, as both of them were exhausted. Their auras receded. The spiraling shapes ceased movement. No longer glowing, they retreated underneath their skin, like sun dulled tattoos, until nothing was left but smooth flesh. The spell broken, they fell the remaining several inches to the ground with an unceremonious flump, the impact disturbing the soft leaves that covered the forest floor. Above them, the wind whispered gently through the trees and the forest was alive again. Not that the exhausted pair resting beneath the forest's trembling bowers noticed. They were far too exhausted to care.

She had closed her eyes tiredly, her hands falling limply to her sides. He was as spent as she was, resting his head against her shoulder as he breathed shakily. They were flushed and sweaty, and it took several minutes for them to even begin to recover from their activities.

Her heart still pounded, she dimly recognized something significant happened. She almost felt whole but at the same time, broken. One thing became clear as her conscious mind surface. Something wasn't right. Something had inexplicably changed. She regained true consciousness as the strings that held her snapped. The ritual was complete. They were bound within it, and had been released. Suddenly, she remembered who she was.

A feeling of sharp horror flooded her. She remembered. She remembered. She remembered but she wished she hadn't. Shaking, she felt her entire body go numb and cold. As if to confirm her fears, she scrutinized her current position. She was naked. She knew this because she could feel the sharp points of sticks and stones and other forest flotsam digging into her ass. Then, it came to her attention there was a very naked someone else above her. She knew this because she could also feel him as he pressed his considerable bulk on top of her. But it wasn't this fact that disturbed her the most. It was the last realization that nearly broke her. She didn't exactly remember everything that happened but she had a rather disturbing guess. That guess was a cold, hard fact, and once she realized it. Once she knew it, she couldn't un-know it. The guess that was now a fact became sure knowledge of what they'd done...

Her lips trembled and her eyes closed, wishing very hard that this was just a stupid, stupid dream. This was the price she paid for helping him. This was the cost and she knew, too late, that the price she'd paid was too high. This...this was what Sango and Miroku were worried about. Why hadn't they warned her? She wanted so badly to blame them, him, anyone but herself but deep down, she knew. Even if they had, she'd be arrogant enough to assume that she'd be strong enough to resist. She was so sure in her love for the hanyou. So sure in her own knowledge of self...She'd fought off spells like this before and she would have assumed she could have done it again. It was that kind of arrogance that had gotten her here.

But she'd forgotten that all those times she fought back there was always someone else to catch her when she fell. Always someone to hold her back, to bring her back, to save her from certain doom, but this time there was no one. And oh, how she'd fallen. Trembling violently, she bit her lip to stifle a cry as she felt tears rise.

"Oh, god..." she breathed, "What have I done?"

It would have been understandable had she not been complicit. She should have fought harder, but she just surrendered to it. It was all his fault and yet it wasn't. Why hadn't they warned her? Why was this happening? She should have just gone home and what killed her was that none of this lamenting was doing any good. It only made the tears come faster and the strangled sorrow more acute. And it all boiled down to one, final realization, that it wouldn't have felt as bad if he'd really forced her. If a part of her hadn't wanted to fuck him. It was so much worse because she knew...she had wanted it. She knew she'd enjoyed it. It was a horrible feeling. There was shame, embarrassment and most of all, the knowledge that she'd betrayed her friends, her family, herself and worst of all, Inuyasha. The very person she trusted the most. Who trusted her, which was a miracle really, because he'd been betrayed so badly in the past and now...

If he knew...and with his brother. His brother who he hated and who hated him.

It'd destroy him.

Kagome couldn't hold back the wet, choking sob that escaped her lips at that moment. It was too much. She didn't know which emotion to feel out of the thousands that beat against her heart. Nameless horror. Eternal shame. Sorrow. Anger. She felt lost. A single miserable soul in a vast sea, alone and completely helpless.

Was this what going insane was like?

She wanted to die or maybe just remain blissfully unaware. She wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out.

She ached.

His breath disturbed the air on her neck and suddenly, she remembered he was there, his presence looming through her pain. In that moment, more than anything else, she wanted him off of her. What they'd done disgusted her. It was revolting and wrong, and she hated him for dragging her into it. Tears flooding her cheeks, she panicked and began to push and hit at him, crying hysterically as she whispered incoherently, her muffled words commanding him to get off of her.

She got her wish.

Slowly, he lifted himself up off her with grace a one armed man should lack.

Slowly, his eyes opened as he knelt above her.

And slowly, he leveled a cold, steely glare at her, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.

She stilled, tears drying stickily on her cheeks as she stared dumbly up at him. His eyes...Her heart pounded. Breath quickened. His eyes were gold. They were red before, almost black and now...they'd changed back to their natural color. This must have been a side effect of the ritual. Whatever they'd done had driven back the poison almost completely, allowing his rational side to come out. She was at first awed by this, but it quickly changed to something more akin to fear. A look of pure disgust flickered across his eyes and his lip slightly trembled with a repressed growl. He knew then. He knew and was no happier about what had happened than she. She suddenly wished for him to be all blood lusty again, because dealing with that side of him was infinitely less terrifying.

Time froze as they stared at each other. One pair of eyes held shame and fear, the other revulsion and fury. Both were pulled into this moment unwillingly, wishing that none of this had come to pass. But there would be no commiseration, despite the uncomfortable position they both shared and the consequences that would come of it.

Unadulterated hate glittered behind his eyes, and though he said not a word, she could feel his outrage at this opprobrious situation, which he plainly blamed her for. His face was as blank as it had ever been, only touched lightly by the deep fury that boiled underneath. Not even twitching a muscle, he lifted his hand and her eyes widened. His nails elongated and began to glow sickly green. She'd been afraid of death before but never was it so certain, so real.

There was no way out of this. No hope of escape was-so-ever.

He was really going to kill her.

She remembered someone had once said that there was no such thing as a quick death. That for the person experiencing it, the time of their death was lengthened with the agony of retreating life. Kagome couldn't be sure if that was one hundred percent true in all cases, but at the moment, she had to agree. Everything seemed to pause before going in incredibly slow motion, the world moving around her in stilted fragments. Her horrified stare was frozen on his hand as he turned it, holding it straight out as he lunged forward. In the few seconds she had to think, she suddenly realized that she really didn't want to die as much as she previously thought. Watching his fingers glowing with bright, sick green, she knew that she had to do something quickly. Something...now. She closed her eyes and held out her hands in a warding gesture, calling out to her power behind the black of her lids. It lifted hesitantly to the surface, seeping from her outstretched hands with static bursts of energy. Kagome opened her eyes slightly, catching the beautiful flicker of effulgent violet light gathering between her fingers. Her elation died seconds later when the light died.

There was a stillborn moment then, as she opened her eyes to gaze at her hands and then back at him. He was doing the same thing as she had been, staring at his hand as if it wasn't his own. Flexing his fingers, his gaze turned to her, eyes dark with suspicion. She could see his decision to just kill her with his bare claws, it reflected deep in his eyes. He lifted his hand again, but this time hesitated. His eyes fluttered, and he looked at her with a glazed expression of confusion. He wavered above her, head lolling before he collapsed on top of her in a dead faint.

Kagome cried out in pain, breathing almost immediately becoming a serious issue. Groaning, she twisted underneath him, gasping for air like a fish. Her lungs burnt like fire and she wasn't sure if it were from oxygen deprivation or if her lung had been punctured by his falling on her. In a desperate bid to breathe, she bucked and kicked at him, while trying not to think about what she looked like. Trying not to remember what they'd done. Thoughts like these made escape that much harder, goading her into a full out panic. She was tired, distraught and generally out of sorts. Straining her weary muscles, she managed to push him off her just a little. Inhaling and exhaling with sharp, desperate gasps, she renewed her effort, pushing away anything that wasn't useful in the moment. Despite this, she often lost focus, wasting precious time on pointless emotional outbursts at the slightest hint of defeat. For this reason, squirming out from underneath him seemed to take eons.

Once she finally rolled him off of her, she sat up and stared out into space, breathing heavily. After a beat, she shivered as feeling came back into her body. Hugging her knees, she drew into herself and began to cry softly. Her entire body shook as the cries became near hysterical sobs, and in an effort to comfort herself, she began to rock back and forth. It didn't work, because the only thing she wanted right at that moment wasn't there. She wanted her mother. It was stupid, and childish, but it was exactly what she needed. If her mother was holding her, things would be okay. If her mother was there, things would make more sense. If her mother was here...right now...she wouldn't hurt so much. But her mother wasn't here, she was a whole world away and it made her cry that much harder. She cried for quite some time. Until her voice was hoarse and useless. She felt nauseous and light headed, her stomach muscles hurting from the sheer effort she'd put into crying. Her sinuses were so overloaded, she could barely breathe. Snot and tears ran down her face, which just made her feel like a foolish child. Sullenly, she realized that's just what she was. A few more strangled sobs escaped her lips, before petering out.

She just couldn't cry anymore, she was far too tired.

Sniffling wetly, she blearily beheld the world, tears drying stickily on her cheeks. She balled her fists and tried her best to wipe them away as the sun filtered through the trees. A tremor ran through her body and she turned her puffy, reddened eyes to the comatose youkai that lay sprawled in an ungainly heap next to her.

She stared at him, her body so tense it felt like every muscle had been tightened and coiled underneath her skin. He looked quite peaceful, if a bit uncomfortable, as he laid there. Too close and not far enough away. She focused on his hair as it lay haphazardly tangled on the ground, leaves and dirt peppered throughout it like sprinkled seasoning. Pouting, she picked out a particularly large leaf from his hair, and twirled it idly between her fingers. Blowing air between her lips, she wrinkled her nose and threw the leaf away, her gaze returning to the recumbent youkai beside her. She watched his chest rise and fall evenly, quite a change from the way things were a few hours ago. He could barely draw breath, and look now, all breathing easily and fancy free. She laughed shortly, sounding more like a rusty bark than anything else. The thought didn't humor her as much as she'd hoped. Her face fell and she simply stared at him some more, trying to make sense of things. Slowly, thoughts began to form as she noticed something odd about him. She knew there was something out of place, beyond what they'd done, there was something else. Something less obvious, but her eyes were seemingly incapable of seeing it or her mind wasn't understanding what it was she was seeing.

Then it clicked.

His skin was still pale, but it had a healthy peachy cast to it, rather than the dull yellow-gray it'd been earlier. He had looked almost cadaverous, but now he was pretty much back to normal. His markings were bright. His hair was annoyingly lustrous. But there was something else she just wasn't seeing.

"His injuries..."

He was grimy and covered with dried blood and god knows what else, so she couldn't tell...but...

There was a moment of indecision as she hugged her knees a bit closer, worrying her lip as her eyes darted over the very naked youkai next to her. Curiosity, as always, got the best of her. Hesitantly, she scooted closer to him and casting quick glances at him, she reached out and rubbed some of the blood away on his shoulder. She had remembered there had been a really nasty cut there before. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest, and it vaguely hurt. Her fingers searched the flesh and found nothing. It was healed. Shaking her head, Kagome wiped away more blood that should have come from visible injuries. Injuries that had now become shadows, the only evidence of them ever existing in reality was the blood they'd left behind.

Gone. They were all gone.

Dumbstruck, she fell into a numb stupor as she processed the information, her hand straying a bit too long on his chest. She shook herself, snapping back into reality with a quiet shudder. Noticing where her hand was, she jerked it back as if she'd been burned, pushing herself away from him with shaky resolve.

If there was one thing anyone could say about Higurashi Kagome, it was this. She was a very resilient young woman. Resilient and resourceful.

Several things were immediately clear to her. The ritual had healed him almost completely. She had no doubt, though, that the kindoku was still present in his system and that this was only a second wind. It would begin to ravage his system again if the cure wasn't applied. But still...he was healed. Not only of the immediate effects of the poison, but his wounds as well. This, in and of itself, was a curiosity and she could only wonder what it might bode.

Knowing this, she'd be hard put to explain to anyone else how it happened. Uncomfortable questions could be asked and she didn't want to answer those questions. Miroku and Sango would know one way or the other. They obviously knew more about this ritual than she.

What was she going to do?

There was no way to explain this...no way...

Looking at him, he still looked a fright; he was bloody, dirty and unkempt. They'd never know until they got him back to the village. The way he looked, they might just want to give him the cure right away, _before_ caring for his wounds. If she insisted...they'd never have to know. They'd just assume the cure took care of it, and they'd never be the wiser. There was a chance her plan might fail. A big chance. And she didn't like lying, but it wasn't like she was lying outright. She wouldn't really have to say a thing, other than to insist they give him the cure right then and there.

Besides, she didn't really want anyone knowing the truth.

What to tell them about what happened to her?

Someone was bound to notice the state she was in, and there'd be questions.

Shakily, she stood and began to look for her clothes. She'd be as honest as she could. It wasn't so much lying as it was omitting certain parts of the story. They didn't take this kind of thing lightly in the feudal era. In her time it was frowned upon but it wasn't like it was a death worthy offense as it was here. It'd be better for all involved if they didn't know. They didn't have to. It was her business anyway. Her problem to deal with...depending on whether or not he'd try to kill her again when he woke up.

She guessed he wouldn't.

The manifestation of his acid had failed before he passed out, just like her power failed when she tried to use it against him. Kagome wasn't sure what that meant, but she was pretty sure it was significant. Or maybe it wasn't, she didn't give half a damn at this point.

After a few minutes of searching she found her pajama bottoms and her shirt, which was nearly shredded to pieces. Where her underwear had gotten to was a mystery. She would have looked for them longer, but she heard faint noises coming from not to far off. Voices, there were voices in the forest and they called her name. Abandoning the search for her underwear, she could only hope they managed to rot because she didn't particularly relish the idea of her grundies surviving five hundred years into the future to be dug up by some archeologist's research assistant.

She grasped her clothes in one hand, running over to the small stream to wash off her face and hands. And arms...and pretty much everything. Scrubbing away the blood and dirt, her hand came in contact with her shoulder. His claws had dug into that shoulder. It should hurt. There should have been five neat little claw marks there but there was nothing. Startled, Kagome, for the first time since she'd woken from her trance, took stock of her own condition. She looked over her body as the voices got closer, her gaze falling to her feet, and the bandages that were still there. Quickly, she pulled her torn shirt and pants on, struggling a bit as she tied the shredded bits of shirt back together. Hopping on one foot, she pulled a bandage off and examined her foot. What had looked like raw hamburger hours before was now completely healed. Her eyes widened. What the hell did this mean?

Before she could suss out an answer, she clearly heard Miroku's voice calling her name and it was very, very close. It suddenly occurred to her that Sesshoumaru was naked. Extremely naked. This wouldn't do much for any explanation she could think up. Racing back to where she left him, she searched for and found his pants, which were the worse for wear. She then proceeded to try and put those same pants on. Contrary to popular belief, doing this wasn't as easy as it seemed. The unconscious youkai was very heavy and uncooperative. His pants didn't help by being in tatters. They kept ripping in places and it was beyond frustrating. But the deed was ultimately done, leaving Kagome more exhausted than she was before.

"KAGOME!"

Her head shot up at the sound of Miroku's voice and her heart quickened its pace.

"Crap!"

She looked down at Sesshoumaru one last time. Her gaze was hardened with confusion. Why did this have to happen? Why to her? Why with him? There was so much she didn't know, and too much she did. Without thinking, she reached out a replace an errant hair that had come to rest over his face. As she tucked it behind his ear, she seemed to realize what she was doing. She stood abruptly and ran blindly away from him, following the sounds of her friend's voices.

The world blurred and she nearly cried out for joy when she saw a flicker of purple through the trees. She stumbled towards Miroku, calling out his name tearfully. Running headlong into him, she blurted out her story, which was lost in-between sobs. She did manage to point out where Sesshoumaru had fallen before dissolving into tears. Sango came not long after. Before she could even greet the Slayer, her vision swam. She felt so weak, and she tried to utter a warning before she fell. The words died on her lips as her vision blacked and she fell forward, not knowing who it was who caught her.

It had been Miroku who'd caught her, much to Sango's dismay, though she gave the monk credit for keeping his hands to himself...this time. Looking at the young priestess, Miroku and Sango shared a knowing look. It wasn't spoken, but they knew what had happened or perhaps it was just a lucky guess. They'd arrived at the village to find Sesshoumaru gone, along with Kagome. The only hint as to where they'd gone and what had happened was a rather gory trail that led into the forest. They found the kamaitachi, and another long and unhelpful blood trail that ended abruptly, most likely because the daiyoukai had taken to the air in search for its other prey.

"What should we do?" Miroku asked, picking up the priestess carefully.

The Slayer sighed, turning her back on the monk. She walked forward silently.

He followed and waited for an answer. When he found none, he repeated the question.

"Nothing," she answered quietly.

"There has to be something we can do..."

"I told you, Monk. Once the ritual was started, nothing can stop it."

"We can't just give up. Surely there's a remedy."

"There's nothing." She repeated, desolately, "No remedy. No cure. No fix for this. They'll be consumed and there's nothing we can do to stop it."

"What about Inuyasha? How are we going to..."

The Slayer turned around and glared at him fiercely, "We won't."

"What? We have to..."

"No, we don't."

"But he has a right to kno--"

"YES! He does have a right, Miroku. But think...for a moment _think_. What will happen if he finds out? All of this ends!" She exploded, startling the monk into silence, "Don't you get it? This is what Naraku wanted. He didn't want Sesshoumaru to die. Not by Inuyasha's hand. Not by any human's hand. He wanted him to live long enough to do this, because he knew...he knew what it'd do."

The Monk paused and gazed solemnly at Sango, who was trembling and visibly upset. It remained unspoken, but they both knew what Naraku had done. He'd set Sesshoumaru against Inuyasha through Kagome. His blood went cold just thinking about it, and his gaze met the priestess in his arms. She'd been used and defiled, and they'd done nothing to stop it, leaving it up to hope and providence that nothing would happen to her. They should have told her. He closed his eyes as guilt assailed him. It'd do little good now, but how else was he supposed to feel.

"We should have warned her."

"It wouldn't have mattered even if we had. Remember what you said about that day at the cemetery. She was acting strange then...that's probably when it started."

"Even if it wouldn't have...we should have warned her..." Miroku said, his voice anguished, "So, what do we do?"

"Pray."

"We have to tell Inuyasha. Even if it means--"

"No," she said, firmly, cutting him off with a glare when he tried to interrupt, "No. If we tell Inuyasha, you know what will happen."

"It's the right thing to do."

"Yes, it is. And say we do the right thing, what then?" She asked, not feeling any kind of triumph when he had no answer, "We tell Inuyasha, our quest ends and Naraku wins. I won't let him. I won't let him get away with this. He will pay, and pay dearly and to do that...we have to be together."

"What about Kagome? To do this...to allow this is unforgivable. She's an innocent..."

Tears hung just behind Sango's eyes, and she looked so close to falling apart. Despite this, when she spoke her voice was unwavering, her gaze hard, "What can we do? We've already lost her."

"So...we just do nothing and move on?" Miroku said, his eyes brightly vehement, "We defeat Naraku at the expense of our friends. Are you really willing to lower yourself to that? Is winning worth that much? Is your desire for revenge so great? We can't just give up..."

Her eyes went cold for a moment, and her jaw set. She answered slowly, her voice forced through her teeth, "You don't understand. If I could do something...I would. It's too late. All we can do is move on, and hope for the best." She paused for a beat before continuing softly, "At the very least, we can give her victory."

At that, the Slayer shook her head, unable to contain her tears. She turned around to hide them from the monk, walking forward on feet that barely felt the ground beneath them. Sighing, the Monk shifted Kagome in his arms, looking down at her placid features with real sympathy. A look of sorrow darkened his face. He tore his gaze away and looked blankly forward, before whispering to the sleeping girl in his arms, "I'm sorry."


	11. I Should Be Allowed to Think

_I was the worst hope of my generation  
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical  
I should be allowed to share my feelings  
I should be allowed to feel_

_I should be allowed to think  
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea  
If by random whim one occurs to me  
But sadly, this can never be_

_I am not allowed to think_

_--They Might Be Giants_

Higurashi Kagome, age nineteen, opened her eyes that afternoon to world changed. Staring at the same bathroom tiles she'd stared at for the last nineteen years, she wondered how it was they seemed so different than they had before. Her eyes shadowed, darkening, she turned from the bathroom ceiling to look over the seemingly vast expanse of water in the bathtub. It was like the ocean to her eyes. An ocean she'd cried herself.

It had been approximately four hours since she'd come back from the feudal era. Coming back didn't really cover what she'd done. She'd run back, shrieking like a surface to air missile as it found its home in the sky. Yes, she'd run. Run away like a coward. Like that missile, she'd arced into the sky and fell down so low, exploding painfully all over the streets below. And now she was here in her bathroom at home, sitting in her warm tub, numbly mute to the outside world. Numb and mute inside. Unable to speak, think or feel, tears streaming down her cheek non-stop. She'd tried, at first, to wipe them away, but it was futile, so she stopped trying.

When she'd woken up, she thought that she'd want to take the kind of bath that'd rub her skin raw. But when she got down to doing it, she just didn't have the energy. As if to test this theory, she lifted her hand up, limply holding it in front of her. It looked the same as it had yesterday, only more prune-y because she'd been in the water so long. She shuddered, tears rolling coldly down her warm cheek. Closing her eyes, she let her hand fall slowly back into the water. Water that would never, _ever_ cleanse the taint from her skin and it certainly wouldn't absolve her of her sins. It wouldn't grant her new power and it couldn't repair her fractured purity. The water could get at the surface of things. It could wipe away the grime on the outside, but everything underneath remained the same.

"Can't clean wounds it can't touch," she murmured, her voice echoing bleakly around the dull and sterile walls of her family bathroom.

Her mother had called her about a half hour ago, worried. Who wouldn't be? Considering the way she'd come home. Stumbling out of the well house, disheveled and hysterical, she'd nearly knocked her mother over when she laid eyes on her. She'd cried then, hot, wet, desperate tears. She'd wept so hard that she couldn't even articulate what had happened to put her in such a state. Her mother, ever kind and understanding, didn't press. She let her cry, all the while silently comforting her anguished daughter.

The only thing her mother had insisted upon was this warm bath, telling her that it'd make her feel better. She'd once joked that she could come in with a sucking chest wound and her mother's answer to her problem would be to take a bath because it'd make her feel better. She certainly didn't have a sucking chest wound, but she did feel a void in her chest area...around the place where her heart might be if it hadn't been ripped out, still beating. Forty minutes ago, Kagome had put little stock in the whole taking a bath, feeling better theory. But her mother proved her wrong. The bath did make her feel better. Physically anyway. Maybe even a little better mentally too.

She didn't feel the overwhelming need to jump off a bridge anymore. My, but that was progress! Now, everything was numb. And numb was better than raw and bleeding. Thinking about it, she guessed maybe numb wasn't better. She wasn't bleeding outside; this lack of feeling was an internal wound. Just as dangerous as an external one, if not more, because when you're bleeding on the outside, at least you can see it so you can stop it. Funny, how she didn't really care anymore.

She opened her eyes, tracing the squiggly patterns of wrinkled flesh as she pondered her current situation. Her flesh was clean. Outwardly it was a healthy, clear pink, flushed from the heat. Clean. They'd cleaned her up before they sent her off, thank the gods. Her mother would never let her return if she'd seen how she looked after...

Another shudder.

She had woken twenty minutes after they'd found her in Miroku's arms. They'd made it back to the village and it had been a short jaunt to Kaede's hut. The elderly priestess had taken care of her. Given her a quick sponge bath and provided her with a change of clothes. Kagome had almost laughed bitterly as she put on the garb of a priestess. The garb of purity. And she couldn't help but think that now she really _was_ like Kikyo, a walking, talking advertisement for irony.

She'd expected them to ask her all sorts of questions and was unnerved when they didn't. Kagome knew then...she knew that they knew or at least, they'd guessed. Her cheeks flamed just thinking about it and tears were so close. But she kept it in. She was stronger than that. Or so she thought. One look of pure sympathy from Kaede later and she was sobbing like a little girl.

She didn't really have to use words to tell them what had happened, it seemed. Her reaction was enough. It was their reaction that surprised her. She had expected to be shamed, shunned. Expelled from whatever comfort her friends would or could provide. It was, after all, the way things worked back then. Or so she thought...again.

But...they were her friends and she should have thought better of them.

She made a mental note to herself to not assume anything about anybody from now on.

Kaede had said it while stroking her hair.

"It wasn't your fault..."

Sango said it with a simple look and a hand on her shoulder.

Miroku had said it on the way back to the well.

Shippou said it just by being Shippou. He hadn't even realized what had happened. He'd just jumped on her shoulder, told her everything was going to be okay and then he hugged like only a child could.

Kagome's throat tightened uncomfortably, and she hung her head, sobbing so hard that she couldn't even make any sound.

They accepted her. They accepted what had happened and realized it wasn't her fault and it made the guilt she felt so much worse.

How _couldn't_ it be her fault?

It was.

It wasn't.

Even with all their acceptance, there were layers of pretense behind their eyes. Looks of pity, of smothering sympathy that made her want to gag. They looked at her like she was going to burst into flames right then and there. Accepting, yes they were accepting. Accommodating. Everything fine friends should be but they hid the truth from her. They were still hiding it. Even if it wouldn't have prevented what happened, they had failed to tell her something so important. They had withheld her right to choose, her right to know and it made her so damn angry. Her tears became hot and raw now. Burning like acid as they trundled down her cheeks. Even now they wouldn't tell her...even if she asked. If she begged and pleaded they wouldn't be able to tell her. They'd just give her that stupid look of guilt ridden sympathy and turn away.

The vast difference in the way things were handled between eras was never so evident as now.

Despite the embarrassing subject, if she knew something like this, she'd tell. But in the feudal era, it was considered gauche to speak of such things, especially in mixed company. Sango or Kaede could have taken her aside, but they hadn't and the only thing she could think about...the question that was centered in her mind was...why?

Why?

It was heartbreaking, rending and tearing every bit emotion from her, like flesh being suctioned through a straw.

"Why?" she asked the walls of the bathroom, her voice so pain ridden and constricted she didn't even recognize it as her own.

And right then, she wanted to do something so drastic that it made her mind reel in pain. But she didn't. She sat there languishing in the bath. Slipping under the water, eyes opening to gaze at the now wavy ceiling tiles...this time there was a reason they were so different. She exhaled and watched the bubbles of air float towards the wavering sky. Kagome wondered if she was still crying when she was underwater. The thought slipped away as she sat up, now prune-ified hands grasping the side of the tub. She rested her head on the cool tile and for a moment she reflected on how fast things could change.

One moment, everything was fine and dandy. She'd gone about her hum-drum life without a care or a worry. The next moment she was here, weeping in her bathroom like the world was going to end next Tuesday and there was nothing she could do about it. She looked at her hands and rubbed the tips of her fingers together to try and get rid of the wrinkles.

She grunted softly, "Aw, didn't work..."

What was she going to do?

They had said it wasn't her fault.

Wasn't. Her. fault.

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. Didn't change much of anything.

She wished they'd talk about it. She wished they'd asked questions, so that she could have answers. Instead, she was left with all the questions and no answers, and a boatload of guilt. It was so easy to blame them. Why hadn't they told her? _Why_? So easy to point that question at them and wait for an answer. But it wasn't that simple. They didn't know. They didn't know this would happen and they hadn't wanted to worry her. If it wasn't her or them or Sesshoumaru or some surreal combination of all three, then where did that leave her? Answer? In the bathtub, crying, and wondering what the point of all this was anyway. The point? The point. At this point it was just a bunch of finger pointing and recrimination, which was hardly useful. This didn't stop her mind from spinning it 'round and round in a useless, never-ending circle.

She tried to blame him. Then she tried blaming them. Then it came back to herself. But when she really gave it some thought, it really all came down to one person.

Naraku.

Miroku had intimated that whatever had happened between Sesshoumaru and herself had been Naraku's goal. Or at least that's what she thought he'd meant. It was hard to tell when everyone was being so damnably vague.

"It wasn't your fault, Kagome-sama." He'd said, his deep eyes vacant with concern. Boring into her with the desire to ask her what happened, compelling her spill the beans while simultaneously allowing her the luxury of keeping it to herself. She did keep it to herself and he spoke again, more quietly, "I'm sorry. You've suffered for our ignorance. It seems Naraku has played a most vicious game and though he has won this battle...he will not win the war."

Whatever the hell that meant.

So, she was just another pawn on Naraku's giant chessboard of doom and she lost. Her piece unceremoniously flicked off the table. They hadn't said it, but it was implied Inuyasha would never find out. Because they all knew what would happen if he did. She could remember the whispered words she'd barely heard in-between consciousness and unconsciousness while in Miroku's arms as they walked away from the place of her degradation. _It all ends_...

Sometimes the sharpest weapons aren't the ones that kill you. What she'd done would be like Kikyo's betrayal all over again. Only ten times worse. This would be like that arrow to his heart, except he wouldn't really die from it. He'd keep on living, but inside...inside he might as well be dead. What Kikyo had done and planned to do was almost merciful.

Again, there was irony.

Kikyo wanted to drag him to hell, literally. Kagome could bring hell on earth to him with just a few simple words. Sort of like a twisted version of the pen being mightier than the sword. Except it would be the knowledge that Kagome...his Kagome...had slept with his brother. Oh...oh and that's not the best part. She'd enjoyed it. Sure, she wasn't really in control of herself, but still...she liked it. Moaned like whore underneath him, giving the barest amount of struggle one could give without being dead. In the grand scheme of things, dragging him into hell would probably hurt a lot less.

Why didn't she fight harder?

_It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have fought it. _

And part of her knew that this was the absolute truth, but the other part of her wasn't convinced.

How had this happened?

_Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?WHY!_

And she whispered the word brokenly, slamming a fist on the side of the tub.

"Why..."

Tears dripped emptily from her eyes, and her heart pounded so hard she swore she could hear it. She could feel it break apart and fall into her stomach, where the turmoil of war raged. All the guilt and the shame of her humiliation burned, acid churning inside her, becoming apart of her. And she could only wish it'd burn her away, but it didn't. It allowed her to float, to hover here between real life and love, and dying inside, she wanted to crawl inside herself and never come out.

She wondered, yet again, if this was what going insane felt like.

She was beginning to doubt it...if she were insane, nothing would hurt this much or if it did, she'd be too out of it to even know.

No. This was sanity, she could tell by the clear, unblemished reality of her situation...and it was so painful.

Kagome stared at her hand as it hung over the lip of the tub. Watching a single droplet of water as it trailed over her skin. It beaded first, and then walked down the hills and valleys on the top of her hand, crawling over the mountain that were her knuckles, to twine across a peninsular finger before stopping to hang off her nail like it was a cliff. The droplet hung there for a second or two, wobbling back and forth in indecision. She blinked and shook her hand lightly, her eyes following the droplet as it fell to earth.

And she wondered...was that a tear or just a droplet of water? Was this the beginning or the very messy end? Did it even matter anyway? Had it ever?

It all ends...all of this ends.

So, it would it be victory? What was victory anyway? Everything felt more like defeat. It was all defeat. Ever since she stepped out of the well into the feudal era, it had been a long series of defeats for her, punctuated by small, meaningless victories.

There was no victory here. Nothing but the fight.

And the question was, would she fight? There was nothing to gain. Everything to lose...and she's already lost so much.

_To fight or not to fight, that is the question_.

Miroku had left her that choice, god bless him. He had told her there was no shame if she wanted to stay in her era. They could think of an adequate excuse to tell Inuyasha and everyone would back her up. They'd lie for her.

"Believe the lie, Kagome," the darkest part of her whispered. "Believe it and let go."

She could stay here. Catch up on all those classes she was missing. Because of her time traveling, she hadn't been able to get into a university right away. Her scores were too bad. She was a ronin. A student without a teacher, forced to attend cram school in order to prepare her for her next attempt at failing a university entrance exam. She'd already failed twice. Third time was a charm. Especially if she gave up the feudal era and stayed here. It was so tempting at this point.

Sorely tempting.

There was one small thing that kept her from doing it.

Her eyes hardened and despite the tears, she looked as immoveable as a mountain. She was finished with lies...or as finished with them as she could be, considering the circumstances. Kagome stood up and got out of the bathtub, splashing water all over with the speed of her exit. Almost angrily, she wrapped her hair in a towel, fitfully tying her robe with the same furious motion.

She stormed out of the bathroom, her footfalls heavy and resolute.

No, it wasn't a small thing. It was a huge, monstrous thing that loomed and nearly overwhelmed her. It made her sick to her stomach and so angry that if she had the ability, she'd burn the world with it. If she'd wanted Naraku dead before, and he hadn't even lifted a finger against her then, she wanted him more than just dead now. He was going to be a greasy streak underneath her feet. She'd condemn him to a hell that was so terrible...it'd be really, really...bad...and scary and stuff.

Sesshoumaru didn't matter.

What they'd done didn't matter anymore.

What Naraku had done to them, did. It mattered a whole helluva lot.

Higurashi Kagome wasn't a china doll. No, she wasn't so breakable or delicate. A bit naive, yes, but not delicate. A poet once said that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Never were there truer words written and she humbly thanked the author for penning such genius. Kagome had been dealt ultimate disrespect, to take her virginity like that to use it to wound another. She wouldn't be anyone's pawn, no, she wasn't worth so little. Did he expect her to crawl away and die? Did he think he could just get away with this? She wasn't like other girls. She wouldn't curl up into the fetal position and just take it. Cry herself away until there was nothing but tears and broken dreams. No, she'd make him pay. By god, she'd make him burn for what he'd done.

But first, she had to know what the hell it was he HAD done.

Furiously drying her hair, her eyes stared out blankly, seeing nothing as thoughts flitted through her mind like mirror bright reflections on a darkened wall. Everything came to a pinpoint and something in her stirred. Eyes narrowed, she examined the thoughts and feelings flitting through her, grasping onto them as she would a tangled cobweb. Sticky and uncomfortable, she shook her hand and wiped the thoughts away, dully registering their meaning.

She didn't know what had been done to her. Simple human magic, like what Miroku used, was beyond her and she knew next to nothing about youkai magic. How would she even begin to look for something when she didn't even know what it was she was looking for?

And if she found what she was looking for, what then?

What if she wouldn't like what she found? She shook her head, glassy eyes benumbed of emotion hidden so cleverly by the depth of her sorrow. It didn't matter. There was no doubt in her mind that she wouldn't like what she'd find. It was a guarantee. But better to know, than to remain ignorant.

Shivering, she clutched the towel to her, fingers worrying the worn edges of the fabric. Another worry. Would she even be able to fight? She was no longer innocent. Being that her powers stemmed from this innocence, she worried that because she was no longer a virgin...no longer virginal...that maybe she wouldn't be able to use her powers anymore. She shook her head again. No...she didn't think so.

She could still feel the jewel shards that lay in their bottle, shining on the table not three feet from her. If she could still sense them, then she was sure, though not a hundred percent, that she still possessed the ability to purify. Yet there still was worry. Three separate times her power had failed to manifest while in Sesshoumaru's presence. This was what continued to poke the back of her mind and it was relentless. She didn't know what it meant.

Did it signal the weakening and eventual disappearance of her power?

Or was it something else?

Yes, it had to be something else, because it had affected him too. Twice.

Rocking on her feet, she bit the edge of the towel, her mind working with unusual ferocity. Twice he'd failed to kill her. Not just failed to kill her, she'd seen him attempt to use his poison against her and twice he'd failed to. She'd seen it sputter and fade out, just like when she'd tried to purify him. It was almost as if their individual powers were failing them on purpose to keep them from killing each other.

And again, she had to wonder what the hell kind of curse this was anyway?

She just didn't understand.

Letting out an impatiently whiny grunt that was just on the edge of a sob, she finished drying her hair and eyed her computer. The towel slipped from nerveless fingers as an idea formed. Hurriedly, she dressed herself, her eyes trained on the computer as if it was the focus of all hope.

She had two days. That's what Miroku had said. He'd wanted her to give them time to think up an excuse, because Inuyasha would be coming home on the third. So, she'd have to return before sunset on the second day and if she didn't they'd know she wasn't coming...and so...she had two days. Two days to find out what all of this meant. She turned and approached her computer slowly, as if possessed. Running her hands through the untamed forest that was her hair, she sat down and stared at the empty screen.

Would it even be worth the effort to look? Finding something of value on the internet was like looking through an antique store. Sure, sometimes you might find just what you need, but more often than not you ended up sifting through mounds of crap for hours only to come out empty-handed. She chewed her lip nervously, and with a sigh, she pushed the 'on' button.

The next few hours were spent on the computer. Afternoon turned to night, night turned to day and she was still looking. Her fingers flitting over the keyboard like the flickering wings of a humming bird. She had missed dinner the night before and breakfast that morning. The search had consumed her. Having missed an entire night's sleep, she was amazed that she was still awake as her eyes restlessly devoured the information on the screen. She needed that information like she needed air to breathe. Her lack of sleep seemed trivial in comparison.

Kagome knew how to study and study well, and before she'd fallen into that well, she'd been a straight-A student. And getting those grades had been anything but easy. She'd worked her ass off studying longer and with more determination than anyone she knew. In that time, there had been more than one long, sleepless night, where all she did was bury herself in a mountain of books. This time was no different and all her concentration had become focused on this one task. She would find out what was done to her. She'd find out or die trying.

As afternoon came, her mother had begun to worry about her. Skipping meals and in general not coming out of her room for over twelve hours was bound to worry any mother worth their salt. She'd sent Souta up with a sandwich and a glass of milk. Kagome ate it, if only to soothe her mother's concern. Also, Souta refused to leave unless she did and getting him out of her room without the possibility of violence and rude language was her number one priority. Her brother had a way of working himself underneath her skin, irritating her in a way only a younger brother could. And she really, really didn't need his kind of irritation right now.

Of course, this all depended on Souta's ability to follow the little brother's directive of not spending a lot of time in his sister's room. Unless, of course, staying in her room would irritate her. It was all delicately balanced...and she had to handle it just the right way...if she ignored him and pretended to be normal...

Unfortunately for her, Souta was very observant for a twelve year old kid and he knew something was wrong with his sister. More wrong than usual. He asked and Kagome couldn't find her voice. All she could think was that there was no way she'd get him out of her room now. There was a long and uncomfortable pause, where Kagome felt herself nearly breaking down. She could feel the tears at the edges of her eyes and she could see how her hands shook. And she knew her brother could see it too. She turned away and took a deep, calming breath before she'd told him nothing was wrong.

It was a lie and he knew it, and she knew he knew it. She should have known better than to lie to her brother. Of all the people in her life, he was the one who always saw the tears through her smiles. He also knew better than to try and force the information from her. Instead, he changed the subject.

"Whatcha doing?"

Her breathing hitched sharply and her eyes widened. Grimacing inwardly, she stared at the screen that she'd last rested on. It was an online archive for sacred texts and she'd been examining the pages dedicated to tantric magic. Specifically, the page she'd opened was a chapter in the Kama Sutra. As it turned out, Kanya Samprayuktaka was only a part of a ritual, not the ritual itself. In fact, it was pretty much the essential component of lots of tantric rituals, as Kanya Samprayuktaka was nothing more than the Hindu term for the union between a male and a female. This made finding what was done to her really, really difficult. It was used often enough that many confused that concept with the name of the ritual, a common misconception when dealing with foreign traditions...but that was besides the point. She was on a page about the Kama Sutra, reading about rituals with helpful illustrations of people in nothing but their birthday suits, doing things that didn't look to be physically possible to accomplish. And...her little brother was in the room.

Flushing darkly, she tried to sound casual as she answered, "Just some research on a spell..."

And in her head, she prayed that it sounded boring enough for him to not be interested.

"Huh," he said, not sounding disinterested at all as he looked over her shoulder, "What kind of spell?"

"DON'T LOOK!" She shouted, her voice cracking in her panic to cover up the screen with her hands.

And the minute she did that she realized her mistake. Now he really WAS interested and it'd take nothing short of a biblical flood to remove him from her room.

"Why?"

She blushed even darker than she had before, sputtering, "B-because..it's p-private and none of your b-buh-business!"

He gave her a wry and knowing look, nodding his head as if he had the secret of life itself. The kind of look one sibling gave to another when they knew they had the advantage.

He smirked then and crossed his arms, "Yeeeeeeeeeeeah right. I bet it's private. You're just looking up more of those dirty stories you read all the time."

"What! Dirty...how did you?" She said, her mouth gaping with each word, "Were you on my computer again?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"SO WHAT! I told you to stay off..." she shouted, trying to summon real anger at her brother's laughing face, "And...they were NOT dirty stories, they were legitimate works of fiction!"

He scoffed, and narrowed his eyes jovially at her, glad to provoke an emotion in her that didn't involve crying, "No, they weren't. It was _fan_ fiction. I read the pages you had bookmarked. It was sick. Aeris and Sephiroth together? That's just wrong."

Forgetting her original purpose in favor of arguing with her brother, she shot back defensively, "Shut up!" She paused and glowered dangerously at her brother, who could barely contain his amusement with her, "There were circumstances...and again, not your business. You shouldn't be snooping around on my computer in the first place..."

"Yeah, whatever. You're just trying to justify your sick fetish. He _KILLED_ her for god's sake..._KILLED_..._HER_..."

"Hey, mister, no one asked you to go reading the stuff on my computer...and for the third time...NOT YOUR BUSINESS. And also..." He began to laugh at her then, which only increased her frustration with him. "Shut up!" She stuttered, feeling more than just a little bit flustered, "GOD! I have better things to do than--"

"Than what, reading your porn?"

Furious, she took off one of her slippers and threw it at his stupid, fat head. She watched with dirty satisfaction as it hit him right between the eyes.

"SHUT UP! It's not porn! And I'm not reading that stuff anyway!"

"So...what _are_ you reading?" he asked, rubbing his forehead with an affronted look that bordered on comic.

"None of your--"

"Business?" he answered for her, again, "Come oooooooooooon. Just tell me. Unless you're hiding something. You always hide stuff..."

Sighing, Kagome broke down. She wanted to tell him she knew. She wanted to say that it was for his own good. But it sounded so hollow and she wanted just one person in whom she could confide. Just one person she didn't have to lie outrageously to. Just one person she could be even somewhat honest with.

Souta had always taken care of her and she'd always taken care of him. When she was too scatterbrained, he'd be the organized one who knew just what it was she'd forgotten. When he was too afraid and timid, she was the one to be brave and help him face his fears. It'd always been that way ever since their father had died. It was something of a family trait, when the chips were down and the world was against you, they stuck together. Souta had been there for everything, just as Mama and Grandpa had been but her bond with her brother was stronger. She didn't know why, but it just was. Souta had been there for her more times than she could count and no matter how annoying he could be, he was often the only one she could turn to.

Biting her lip, she looked at her brother with worn seriousness, "Promise me you won't tell a soul."

"Why?"

"Because...Just promise, okay! You can' tell Mom or Grandpa...Inuyasha..." She said, pausing on Inuyasha's name hesitantly, "No one."

"Sure," he replied, a bit more flippantly than she'd like.

"I mean it, Souta. You can't tell anyone or so help me god..."

"I said yes!"

"I'm serious...you promise..."

"Yeah! I promise already...word of honor and all that other stuff, I won't tell anyone. GOD!"

Kagome sighed, looking at her brother's confused face with confusion of her own. She wasn't sure how it had all gotten to this point, but now that it was here...

"There's this curse...that was sort of cast on me..."

"And you're looking it up to find the counter-curse, right?"

"Yeah, something like that."

With an even deeper sigh, she told him as much as she knew which was so little at this point. She omitted some of the truth. There were some things you just didn't discuss with your younger brother. Sex was one of those things. She told him as much as she was comfortable with. She told him about Sesshoumaru, about Rin's death, and that in all likelihood they were but pawns in a game no one, save Naraku, wanted to play.

It was enough to let him get the gist of things, without revealing the awful truth. Even so, her brother was a perceptive child and he felt there was more to it than that. Knowing his older sister well, Souta had no doubt something truly awful had happened. Kagome didn't cry for hours on end like that unless it was the end of the world as she knew it. He was a good brother and he wouldn't pry, but it didn't stop him from worrying about her. She was always pushing herself like this, keeping things bottled up inside until the last moment. The only thing he could do for her was just to be there when she needed him. Anyway, all of this was too big for a twelve year old kid. He'd keep his sister's secret. What else could he do?

After her brother's visit, Kagome continued to search. She worked through dinner and through yet another night and into the morning. After two days with only about three hours sleep between them, Kagome was quite surprised by how _not_ tired she was. It was with sheer amazement that she realized she was awake. There was sort of a vague tingle behind her eyes that let her know the levels of sheer exhaustion she was soon to feel, but she ignored it for now. Not sleeping was worth it, when she considered the information she dug up. She knew what the foreign sounding word meant. She knew it was part and parcel of most tantric rites and rituals. It wasn't much, but it was just enough and if she was persistent enough, she knew she could find more...if given some extra time.

But time was a luxury she didn't have.

Looking at the clock on her desk, she saw the time and almost fell off her chair. The little red digital numbers read a quarter to five. She had to go...now. Panicked, she ran all over her room, gathering supplies for her return to the feudal era. At some point her brother came in, and instead of delivering the message he was sent up for, he watched his sister run around her room like a chicken with her head cut off.

As she brushed past, he asked casually, "So, I guess this means you're not staying for dinner?"

"No," She answered breathlessly, taking two steps at a time.

He followed her down as she ran for the front door, not noticing the questioning looks given from her mother and grandfather as they came out from the living room to see what all the ruckus was.

"You're going back?" Her mother asked quietly.

Kagome froze, before answering very softly, "Yes."

"Well, be careful then," her mother said airily, smiling softly as she turned around and left, dragging her grandfather behind her.

This left Souta and Kagome alone. Brother and sister regarded each other with shared resolution. His sister was so brave. Little did he know that she believed the same thing about him. There were so many things they wanted to say each other, but the words never came. Instead, they said all they had to say with their eyes. Souta nodded once, his eyes sharp and clear, giving his sister the strength needed to face her fate. She gave him a watery smile, that told him she'd do her best...that at the end of all this, she'd come back whole and stronger than she'd been before.

Just as she was about to leave, he stepped forward. He took another and another, until he was right and front of her. Before she could say a word, he hugged her fiercely and said, "Good luck. Come back soon, okay?"

There was a small, quiet moment, where she realized he was almost as tall as she was. He was growing so fast. Ruffling the hair on the back of his head, she sighed and laughed at the same time.

"I will," She replied as a small, wicked smile appeared, "And keep your hands off my computer or else."

Pulling away with awkward chagrin, he hesitantly smiled back, "Or else what?"

"I'll tie sausage to your toes when you sleep and lock Buyo in your room."

He laughed and then paused when he saw the look on her face. She was serious.

"You wouldn't," he said, not sounding sure of himself at all.

"Wanna bet?"

He shivered, and quickly changed the subject, "Yeah...so good luck..."

The gleam in her eyes dimmed, going from playfully threatening to genuinely sad. She'd miss her little brother. Then and there, she knew she needed an end to all of this. The feudal era was no longer an escape; it had become what she wanted to escape from. She wanted to thank him, but her throat had tightened so much that not even a breath could escape it. Instead, she just nodded and tried not to cry. He nodded back and watched her disappear out the door, helpless to stop her.

She almost didn't hear his last, whispered words.

"Love you, sis..."

* * *

Author's note--The argument Souta and Kagome have about fanfiction pairings and fanfic in general is an homage to an actual discussion my husband and I had. A little wink and a nod to my homie. Even though we disagree, I loves you lots. 


	12. Snail Shell

_Friend_

_Look what you gave_

_And how can you ever be repaid?_

_How may I give you a hand_

_From the position at your feet where I stand?_

_--They Might Be Giants_

She ran the entire way to the well, her backpack banging against her back uncomfortably. Kagome barely noticed as her vision was blinded by tears. She wasn't even sure why she was crying. Maybe it was because there was so much she wanted to say that had been left to be said. Instead of saying those things, she ran blindly. She didn't even recall her trip to the other side. All she could see were her feet as they pounded against the ground. They pushed her forward into the past and a future uncertain, but she followed them anyway. She didn't stop running until she came to Kaede's hut.

Out of breath, heart pounding, she felt as if something had lanced her mortal soul...draining it of everything that made her human. Everything that made her feel. She didn't want to step in there. Every cell in her being yearned to just keep running but her feet rooted her to the ground. Kagome closed her eyes, and holding her hand to her heart, she willed it to slow. And much to her surprise, it did.

She had to face this. Face them. Because if she could do this, then she knew she wouldn't have to run away. She wouldn't have to break another promise...it would be the one time she didn't fail at something. Drawing in a calming breath, she slowly pushed the reed curtain from the door and entered the hut. A small sea of surprised faces greeted her and she suddenly felt like shrinking away from their attention. Suddenly, the idea of running away forever didn't seem quite so implausible. She was pinned like a butterfly now and unable to move, she just stared back blankly, eyes fluttering in the half light as she tried not to cry.

Shippou was the first to react. He immediately launched himself at her, asking her a barrage of questions all in one breath. She didn't answer him. She couldn't even hear his words. She wasn't sure what happened next, but somehow Miroku had managed to stand. He plucked the kit from her shoulder and looked at her with reserved concern. Smiling warmly, he set a hand on her shoulder, the rings on his staff jingling softly as he greeted her.

"Lady Kagome, welcome back."

She'd felt so awkward up until that point. Truth be told, she still felt a bit strange and out of sorts. Biting her lip, she smiled weakly and whispered, "Yeah..."

Wanting to say so much more...her voice betrayed her and all she could do was hold back the sob that threatened to loose itself. Tears welled in her eyes as Sango stood. She walked towards the girl she called friend, slowly, almost hesitantly...as if she thought Kagome might explode without notice. Standing in front of the younger girl, Sango stared at her with an unreadable expression, though if she tried hard to place it, the expression was on route somewhere between utterly miserable and guilt-ridden. With a muffled cry, the Slayer jerked her into an embrace her hard enough to knock the wind out of her. After a moment, Sango pulled away and wiped her eyes. She gazed at Kagome with misty eyes and smiled. It was sad, wistful but somehow endlessly joyful. Without even realizing it, a tear slipped down her cheek and Kagome smiled to keep her heart from breaking.

"We hadn't expected...We all thought...that..." Sango said, her voice tightened with emotion as her words stumbled out, "It's good...that you're continuing the quest. I'm glad...we're all so glad...I was afraid..."

"...That I wouldn't come back?" Kagome asked, smiling another brittle smile, "Naraku has to be stopped. He has to pay for what he's done...and there's still jewel shards to find. And...and you can't do that without me. I made a promise to everyone and I'm not about to welsh on it. I'm going to see this to the end..."

"Thou art a brave young woman, Kagome-sama."

Kagome turned and gave a smile to Kaede, who gave one of her own, wizened by years of living. A smile that had seen too much and caused the wrinkles around her eyes to crinkle up and there was an odd light in her eyes that Kagome couldn't quite decipher. Before she could really examine it, the elderly miko turned her gaze back towards the herbs she'd been slowly grinding this entire time. Kagome's eyes followed the motion, watching with mute fascination as the herbs were crushed between the slab and the roller of Kaede's yagen.

Kagome shook her head, whispering a nearly inaudible 'thank you'. Everyone, everything in the room seemed to be drawn taunt like a trap ready to spring. Everyone sensed it and found that there was nothing they could think to do to relieve it. All except one.

Shippou pouted, shouting loudly, "OI!" The sound was so piercing and abrupt that everyone, including the kit himself, jumped in surprise. Recovering himself, he struggled in Miroku's arms as he spoke, "What's wrong with everyone? You all act like Kagome is dead or something! We should be happy she's here, not sad!"

He finished his sentence with an angry little harumph, his lower lip protruding in a display of innocent obduracy. He looked for all the world like a stubborn little Buddha and the juxtaposition of those thoughts were too absurd. Kagome couldn't help it, maybe it was the stress she'd been under or the lack of sleep, but she found herself laughing semi-hysterically. She couldn't stop and she really, really tried. Kagome tried to explain herself, but all that came out was half-worded sputtering and barely intelligible at that. Giving up on talking, she concentrated on NOT laughing, but the harder she tried to stop laughing, the more insistent the need to laugh became.

Her friends gazed at her like she'd grown a pair of prehensile eye-stalks and she laughed even harder. Shippou had almost immediately begun laughing with her; mostly because her face was so red and funny looking that he really couldn't help it. Miroku and Sango soon followed, while Kaede chuckled silently and shook her head at the foolishness of youth. The tension in the room seemed to lessen as the awkward silence gave way to laughter and once things quieted down, that same silence didn't seem nearly as uncomfortable as it had been before. Once everyone had reigned themselves in, Miroku updated Kagome on what she'd missed the last two days.

She didn't really want to talk about certain, unnamed parties at the moment, but it seemed she had no choice. Her friends first and foremost concern was the daiyoukai currently residing in the village cemetery and they were loath to think of much else. She supposed she couldn't blame them. As it turned out, they had decided to return the youkai to Rin's grave, afraid that if they put him in a hut that he might wake and attack someone.

It was thought that it would be best for him to wake somewhere familiar, and away from anyone he could maim. They had elected NOT to give him the cure right away, mostly because he woke up quite quickly and in what most would term a bad mood. The last two days had been tense...very, very tense, as Sesshoumaru seemed to have cast some kind of dark cloud over the entire village. She hadn't noticed it before, but now she did. It was eerily silent. Even the birds seemed to know better than to chirp.

Sango had mentioned, in passing, the real fear they had that she wouldn't return. All agreed that they had no real idea how they'd proceed if she hadn't come back. The youkai was himself again, which oddly enough, made him even more dangerous than he had been before. He didn't say or do anything untoward, other than holding his silent vigil at his ward's grave. But it was generally accepted that approaching him was out of the question, as the one attempt to do so ended with a near death experience at the end of his youki whip. After that, Miroku had wisely decided to wait and see if Kagome would come back. If she hadn't, he'd stated that they'd think of something then, relying on blind hope that she'd return. Lucky for them all, she did.

In the midst of the discussion, Kaede announced that the remedy was finished. She carefully guided the crushed gyosei into a small cloth, gently folding over the edges so that none escaped before tying the small package with a piece of twine. The elderly miko handed Miroku the package reverently, knowing how precious the rare herbal concoction was. He accepted it and bowed slightly before placing it inside one of his kimono's long sleeves. No one spoke as they exited the hut. There was really nothing to say. Kagome gave an uncertain backwards glance as she followed Miroku and Sango, who were headed towards to the cemetery. Kaede gave her an encouraging nod as she disappeared back into the hut, shepherding Shippou in before her.

The long walk to the cemetery was spent in very uncomfortable silence. Kagome tried not to notice how loud the sound of crunching gravel was. Miroku and Sango were walking ahead of her and she...she was lagging far behind but not out of reluctance, as most would think. In the darkest recesses of her mind, she knew exactly why she was dragging her feet but she refused to bring it up anymore. She'd agonized over it for the last two days and she was tired of thinking about it. Her exterior mind supplied the thought that she didn't want to see him because she was ashamed of what she'd done. But the core of her being knew better. It knew that it was guilt...but not over what she HAD done but what she would do.

She had felt the pull when she'd first got here but she'd thought it was something else, mistakenly believing that something wanted to push her away, when really...it was drawing her in. That deep, dark part of her caught sight of the cemetery and it whispered to her that this was where she had wanted to run to. This was where her feet had been drawn to. Why they'd run so hard. Cold dread shot through every nerve in her body, and she shivered. She could feel it. Something pulsed, pushing away, drawing in...it was all the same. And she could feel it. That foreign aura that attached itself to hers as it pulsed again, beating in time with her own power like a second heartbeat. She felt irritation and maddening fury, and she knew it wasn't hers. It was him. He knew she was here. He knew she was coming and he was angry.

Reeling inside, she almost felt the need to stop to regain her sense of balance. Everything was so skewed and wrong. Her head felt too light. Too big. She wavered on her feet, and closing her eyes, she tried to shut the strange feeling out as it was followed by a wave of nausea. Opening her eyes, she knew she probably looked like hell. She felt like it. She was pale and tired from not having slept. It was all too much to deal with.

Gazing at the placid beauty of the cemetery entrance, she suppressed a sigh that could have been a sob if she'd let it go. That sob tried harder to get out, when she realized that Sango and Miroku had stopped and turned to gaze at her. No words were exchanged. She knew why they'd stopped and she knew they would go no further. Miroku gave her an encouraging smile as he drew the gyosei from his kimono sleeve and handed it to her.

Hands shaking, she took the small package and looked up at him, feeling helpless and hopelessly alone. They really didn't expect her to do this, did they?

"You can do it, Kagome-sama. You _must_ do it."

Sango placed a hand firmly on her shoulder and nodded, looking a bit too broken, a bit too torn up inside. Her face was entirely too calm as she pulled out one of the two swords she had secured to her side. Holding it out for Kagome to take, she managed not to burst into tears like she wanted, holding it all back for the good of her friend. Hesitantly, the young priestess took the sword and examined it, giving the slayer a questioning look after a moment. In her hands, she held Tenseiga. How had they gotten it out of that tree? Where was the other sword? Had he even had it with him before? Eyes lost in mystery, she was swallowed by her thoughts, taking herself to a place far, far away.

Squeezing the young priestess's shoulder, she nodded solemnly and said, "You're the only one who can."

The squeeze on her shoulder and Sango's words brought her back. Licking her lips, her fingers tightened around the sheath of the sword as her gaze bore down on it. Sword in one hand, cure in the other, she felt the world around her turn and it made her sick. She wanted to get off. Dizzy and a bit nauseous, she closed her eyes and steadied herself until the world around her stopped spinning. The world DID stop spinning, but it made no more sense to her than it had a few moments ago. Was she really going to do this alone...again? She didn't want to...but she did...she wanted to run away...only to end up where she didn't want to be...to run straight to the place she'd been running away from since the very beginning of all this...

Irrationally, Kagome wanted to get angry right then and shout at them. But she couldn't decide exactly what it was she was angry about. It was then, that she discovered she wasn't really so much angry as she was terrified. She couldn't do this alone.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, "I can't..."

"You can." Miroku interjected, pulling her forward gently by the elbow.

She struggled faintly, but in the end, she allowed herself to be led...into the proverbial lion's den which, in her opinion, looked suspiciously like the gates of hell. She'd been pushed into the cemetery proper now and she looked back, feeling very much like a child on the first day of school.

"We'll be close by, Kagome. No need to worry."

"But..."

"Good luck."

They stood there, just watching her and she stood, just watching them in blatant disbelief. Feeling confused and overwhelmed, she turned, eyes searching the cemetery for something she wasn't sure she'd find. Was there even anything she was really looking for to begin with? Squaring her shoulders, Kagome walked forward, allowing her feet to pull her, following the tug of her soul. Hair whipping lightly in the wind, she left them behind like a wraith moving towards her haunted destination, passing her friends as if they weren't even there. It was as if a switch had been thrown and once again, she wasn't sure who was in the driver's seat. Looking over to her right, she realized it wasn't her. She was a passenger and she could only watch numbly as her feet moved forward. Her movement seemed to slow and she wondered if time was going to do her the favor of stopping.

Blinking languorously, she felt uncomfortably calm and there was an unexplainable tightness in her chest. It was so hard to breathe and her head felt so light that she was sure sooner or later it'd detach itself from her neck. Heart beating rapidly, she felt an incredible pain seep into her consciousness and just like before, it slammed into her and she gasped. It was him. He was doing this and this time she couldn't help but feel that it wasn't an accident. He wasn't in pain, he was doing this in a deliberate attempt to hurt her, or so she surmised. Stumbling forward, the calm she had felt before crumbled and true fear gripped her. She shook it off, eyesight blurring, heart hurting, she would do what she'd come here to do. She'd end this, even if it killed her. It was by blind luck and sheer persistence that she kept walking forward.

He was sitting in front of Rin's grave, looking for all the world as if he'd never left that spot. She expected him to make a move. To stand or at least turn around to acknowledge her in some way but he didn't. He stayed absolutely still and it terrified her even more than if he'd simply whirled around and lunged at her. Trembling all over, she swallowed, hoping to make her mouth just a little less dry. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't do this...why was she here anyway?

Turning away, she looked at anything but him. She found herself staring at the trees, distracting herself by marveling at the new leaves that grew from once bare branches. Nature was surely quite a miraculous thing and she wished she was far, far away. Someplace just like here, only without the large, Sesshoumaru shaped problem sitting right in front of her. Would he kill her if she came any closer? Would he kill her anyway?

So, she took it all in. The steel grey sky against the vibrant growing leaves. The small patches of grass that wavered lightly in the wind, glad to be pushing up through the cold, hard ground after a long winter. The heavy silence that surrounded her that was only occasionally broken by the shrill cries of the birds as they perched above them all, safe in the boughs of their trees. She took the world in, held it close to her and set it high on a shelf in her memory.

Yes, she was stalling, she knew this now. She didn't want to do this and she didn't want to be here, damn it all. She was afraid and so very lost. A part of her even thought that it might be a great mercy if he just killed her...and she hated that she even thought that, but it was there. And in the end, what she was about to do threatened to shatter the small bit of self-respect she had left. It was almost worse than death, if she really thought about it.

Closing her eyes, knees on the ground, she set down the sword and the cure and bowed down deeply...her first and only recognition of his status in relation to hers. She watched her hands as they lifted away from her sides. She watched them touch the ground as she bowed her head, averting her eyes...staring at the ground. It was like she was another person. A different Kagome, who wasn't quite as insolent, and just a little more broken, and then she realized that _was_ her. Funny thing, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry or sad about it. Focusing on the ground, she breathed in deeply and let herself up enough to take the gyosei in both hands.

Coughing lightly, she bowed her head again and held it out like a proper supplicant should. In a soft voice, she humbly asked him to accept the village's gift in the most formal tone she knew. She even managed to add the honorific to his name, something she'd rarely done before, and something she would do from this day forward. It sounded strange and wrong to her ears, but deep in her heart she knew it was right. She wasn't bowing in supplication, no matter what it looked like. And she had to keep telling herself that she wasn't bowing down to him out of respect. She was doing this to distance herself from him. He wasn't better than her but she wouldn't speak or act so familiarly anymore. She needed this distance and she could find it by treating him like the stranger he was.

He hadn't responded and she wouldn't lift her eyes to find out why. She was too busy concentrating on not visibly trembling anyway. Taking a steady, measured breath, she forced herself to calm, forced away the pulsing pain he sent to her through the unwanted link between them. She only had to do this one thing, and things could go back to something resembling normal. If she did this, then he'd leave and him leaving was good. Her only problem at this point was whether or not he'd kill her, and she was trying really hard not to think about that. It wasn't really working, judging by her heart beat, which only jumped when she heard him move.

The sound of heavy silk shifting, and the crunch of the gravel beneath his shoes, it was enough to give her a mild heart attack. His sleeves snapped in the wind, and she could tell that he'd come closer. So close, she swore she could feel those sleeves brush against her bowed head. His shadow fell over her and when she looked up ever so slightly, she could just see the tips of his shoes. She inhaled sharply, tensing and closing her eyes as if preparing for death. Instead, she felt someone take the proffered gyosei from her hand and as the weight was lifted; his shadow fell a little less menacingly over her kneeling form.

Her throat was uncomfortably dry. She had no spit to swallow as her cheeks burnt brightly with fear. Despite the fact that his shadow had retreated a bit, she could still feel the open menace rolling off of him and it wasn't just from the preternatural link they shared. His anger was a palpable thing, radiating off him like steam from underneath the hood of an overheating car. She was torn between freezing in terror or running away...also in terror.

But she still had one more thing to do.

One more thing and she'd be done with all this and he'd either leave or kill her.

Or maybe both. Disturbed by her overactive imagination and her own inability to comfort herself, she forced away the terror as much as she could. She wouldn't run away like a mindless animal. She'd hold her ground. She'd do her duty, even if she was practically scared stiff. Slowly, so as not to alarm him, she reached out for the sword she'd set at her side. Hand hovering gracefully in mid-air, she lowered her arm, letting her fingers just brush the sword's scabbard.

Her fingers just brushed the fine wood of Tenseiga's sheath before they were abruptly ripped away as she was wrenched up by her arm. Dizzy and disoriented, she blinked unseeingly, briefly meeting his gaze before tearing it away, terrified. His grip on her arm was hard enough to turn coal to diamonds, and she knew, without a doubt, that after all was said and done she'd have a bruise there by tomorrow morning. Wincing, she kept her eyes firmly on the ground and tried not to think too hard about much of anything. If she was passive, yielding and submissive maybe he'd leave her alone. That's the way it worked in all those gaudy, romantic novels she used to read. This whole situation was beginning to surreally mirror those tales she used to regale herself with before she'd fallen into that well. Not that she remembered them all too well. They all sort of bled together, as stories like that weren't known for their variety in theme.

Anyway, she did remember that the young, dashing samurai in those stories always preferred a bit of struggle and their concupiscent ardor was always less once the heroine accepted her fate. That is if you believed what Lady Murasaki wrote...and right now, she'd just about believe anything anyone threw at her, so long as it got her out of this alive and him away from her. So, she smoothed out her expression and became limp, trying her best to convey her acceptance of this situation. If he wished to force himself on her, if he wanted to harm her, then let him. Not like she could stop him.

Apparently, her shows of deference displeased him as he jerked her arm sharply, nearly pulling it out of her socket. His nails dug into the flesh, just enough to hurt but not enough to draw a significant amount of blood. At first, the fact of him causing her pain was all she could see, until everything sort of evened out. His arm...his arm was trembling. It was shaking so hard that she could feel the tremors through the fingers that held her wrist. And then she looked even closer to find he was trying to summon his poison but it wasn't working. The nails would briefly glow a bright gold-green, only to flicker out moments later. Her eyes widened, a soundless gasp escaped from her mouth.

With her revelation came more pain as he hauled her up by one arm, and held her there for a moment before throwing her to the ground. She wasn't quite sure how much time passed before she was able to push herself into a kneeling position, but it couldn't have been long. Cradling her arm, she just sat there and waited, all the while trying not to cry...holding her tongue and her heart back from releasing all her pent up fury at the youkai in front of her. What good would it do? Even if she'd feel better. Even if a part of her still blamed him...

"Do you understand..." he asked, though he said it so tonelessly she wondered if it were a question that was meant to be answered at all.

Blinking slowly, she nodded, mind completely numb and blank to anything but his cold, hard voice. Yes, she understood all too well. He couldn't hurt her. She couldn't hurt him. Not enough to cause true harm anyway. What a miserable situation to be in. He moved restlessly around her, circling her as if he wanted to strike but she knew he couldn't and she knew he knew she knew. Kagome blinked; slightly confused by her mind's own rambling thoughts that she forgot he was there for several seconds. Until his shadow fell over her again.

"You will tell no one what happened here, human..."

How one person could say all those words with such cold, obvious disgust...without letting the least bit of emotion leak into his voice was beyond her, but he did it. She had that feeling that she wasn't entirely herself again, and she watched as her world view turned, helpless to stop herself from meeting his gaze. Looking him dead in the eye, she wondered why she ever thought he was so intimidating.

Kagome held her head high, her heart beating in her chest furiously. Inhaling deeply, she paused a moment before exhaling the breath in a single measured rush of air. She blinked once, before speaking to him with a voice that was as clear and as calm as a midsummer breeze.

"Something happened?"

The words and the tone were innocent and entirely too believable. His eyes widened minutely and then narrowed, his head tilting slightly in curious disbelief.

"You know as well as I that..."

"..._Nothing_ happened. Not since you arrived."

She swore for a moment he almost looked surprised.

"You're quite sure?"

"_Very_ sure."

"Nothing happened?"

"Nothing."

"Indeed," he drawled as he gazed at her, his golden eyes glinting too brightly in the muted morning light.

At that very moment, the world spinning on its axis and all movement in the universe abruptly stopped till there was nothing but him and her and the eternal silence that surrounded. In slow motion, his hair ruffled in the breeze, stray tendrils of bright white shifted and were tugged free to tangle in the wind. It was hauntingly beautiful. Too ethereal, too strange to be real. Everything was so much like a dream now and she didn't know where to begin or when to stop. Had she gained something or had she lost it? It was like one of her grandfather's sayings that endlessly looped around itself and the more you thought about it, the less it made sense.

And just like that, the moment ended, because...just like that...Sesshoumaru turned slowly and gathering his youki, he prepared to leave.

The dreamlike state she'd been in shattered abruptly as one thought passed through her mind.

Tenseiga. He was leaving without Tenseiga.

Kagome dipped down and snatched the sword from the ground, stumbling to her feet, she tripped over to him. Hands outstretched, she held the sword out to him, softly calling his name. The slight stirring of wind at his feet ceased and his head turned so she could just barely see the side of his face. Feeling awkward and a bit stupid, her face reddened and she searched her heart and her mind for the right words to say.

In the end, she went for simplicity, "Your sword...you forgot it."

She stepped forward in anticipation of him taking it from her but he didn't take it from her. Instead, he turned his head further, enough for her to see the nearly malevolent glare in his eyes.

"I have no use for a worthless sword."

And just like that, he left and she watched him with an almost detached reluctance, clutching the sword he left behind to her chest. For several minutes she stood like that, watching the sky for reasons she couldn't explain. Her hands tightened around Tenseiga's sheath as she turned around and walked back to her friends. Everything was so muddled now. She didn't know what to think or feel. She should feel relieved, but she was strangely sad and she didn't know why. It was like she was missing something she hadn't even known she lost but it wasn't what she thought she lost...it was something else. Something more elusive. Kagome shook her head, and just like that, the confusion was forgotten. Left behind like his sword as she crawled back inside herself and convinced her unwilling heart that nothing really had happened. That everything was normal and unchanged, even though in reality, everything was far from normal. Everything had changed.

She would go on as if it hadn't.

Things would return to normal.

If only things had been that simple.

* * *

Yagen--Japanese style herb grinder. 


	13. Narrow Your Eyes

_I don't want to change your mind_

_I don't want to think about your mind_

_They say love is blind_

_I don't think you're blind_

_--They Might Be Giants_

Time passed and things returned to a startling degree of normality with only a few, superficial changes. This would have been comforting to Kagome had she not seen through it. If she didn't know that everything she did and said, everything, all of it was a lie. It was forced and so false that she truly wondered if she were the only one who realized it because she didn't want to be the only one in on the joke.

Every morning they'd wake, travel for a few hours. Sometimes get in a fight. Sometimes not. Only to go settle down for the night after eating a good meal and as the fire died, they'd all fall asleep one by one to do it all over the next day.

A cyclical routine that once upon a time was comfortable but now...now she was tired of the pretense behind it.

Inuyasha had been told an edited version of what had gone on in his absence and his righteous indignation combined with his implied worry for her made her guilt as free flowing as soda from a fountain. Damn him for being so earnestly concerned for her. It'd be easier if he was just mad at her but no...he was actually worried in the way she'd always wanted him to be.

"_My brother could have killed you, Kagome and I'm surprised he didn't. He's never accepted a human's help. You were lucky_..." His face had been ashen, paler than she'd ever seen it and when he pulled her into an embrace, she realized he was trembling. "_Stupid girl, never do that again_."

Advice that was too little, far too late.

She burst into tears, sobbing so violently that he had to support her when her legs gave out. This was all so wrong. He had no idea what really caused those tears and in his innocence he'd tried to console the inconsolable. The only thing that made it even remotely bearable was that she wasn't alone in her guilt. Miroku and Sango shared a measure of blame because they supported the lie for her. She'd watched their faces as they told the story. It really didn't make her feel better that she'd dragged her friends into it. Sometimes she wished she was the only one who knew. To bear it in her own mind and not have to trouble anyone else with it...she wondered if it'd be easier that way. Better.

Through all this mental anguish she tried valiantly to carry on.

The first few weeks had been the hardest. She felt like she was crying most of the time. Seeing the worry in everyone's eyes, she tried to hide it by fighting harder, complaining less when the road seemed to stretch on forever, but at the same time she didn't laugh as much and her patience seemed endless. Patience wasn't something she'd possessed in great quantities, which was why Inuyasha had been 'Sit' so many times in the past. Now she was so patient it was almost as scary as her temper had previously been.

Of all the changes in her, this was the most noticeable and disturbing...to some anyway. No matter how he insulted her, she'd take it without even blinking twice. The word spell she used and abused for four years never left her lips, even when the hanyou tried to provoke her into using it.

Never again, she'd promised herself. Never again would she use that word. She didn't have the right.

Her resolution remained firm and oddly enough, it was a source of deep confusion, anxiety and irritation for her hanyou companion. Inuyasha wasn't a terribly deep thinker and wasn't known for being particularly reflective. Action had always suited him better. If thinking wasn't his specialty, he was even worse when it came to dealing with other people's feelings. He wasn't a sensitive person. He was blunt, sometimes a bit obtuse and overall easily annoyed when the subject would turn to his or, god forbid, someone else's emotions. Even so, he understood something was deeply wrong with his friend. And though he couldn't feel it, he could _see_ what she was trying to do, even if he could never conceive the reason behind it. He knew the little girl's death weighed heavily on her conscience and this one time he'd allowed himself to be gentle.

Looking her right in the eye, he set a hand on her shoulder and spoke softly, "You don't have to be strong, Kagome. Be sad all you want. I'll protect you. I promise..."

She almost hyperventilated trying to keep herself from crying. And just when she thought she'd gotten control of herself he hugged her again, hugged her so fiercely it took her breath away. Hugged her like she'd seen him hug Kikyou and in that moment she was sure that the earth could crumble beneath her feet but it wouldn't matter, because he'd always be there...holding her up. Funny enough, there were no tears, only a deep well of guilt and sorrow that became deeper and deeper, soon to swallow her whole.

She could still remember the way he smelt. The way his arms felt around her and when she'd pressed her face into the crook of his neck, she'd remember how warm his skin had been. Struggling with herself, she closed her eyes and for a moment she almost told him. It was on her lips and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Only silence as his embrace tightened fractionally. The pain in her heart at the moment was so bright it'd turn the sky white. So painful, it felt like her heart was being constricted and was slowly losing blood flow, and no matter what she did...the hurt would never go away.

Her chest felt so hollow. Hurt so much. It was like someone was piling rocks on her back. And with each rock, it got harder to breathe and the agony was so great that she thought she'd break, but she didn't. She just kept enduring. She wanted to break. She wanted to be weak...as weak as she had been when she'd played the fool and tried to help a youkai.

This was her best friend. Her best friend in the whole world was holding her and comforting her, and she knew she should tell him. If he was really her friend, he'd understand. And her brittle heart cried, screamed that she should trust him and just be honest but the mistakes of one's soul, reincarnated or not, aren't easily overcome. Sometimes repetition is inevitable. Like Kikyou before her, Kagome couldn't overcome the natural inhibitions of her heart, distrusting the fragile bond between her and her hanyou friend.

And it was so very fragile.

It occurred to her then as now that she had been really stupid. Really, really profoundly stupid--stupid on a level heretofore unknown to man, god and demon and if she'd been able to quantify it she was sure it'd be in a record book somewhere.

If all of this hadn't been difficult enough to deal with, there was another unforeseen complication. Kagome had taken special care not to really think about _him_ in the last few weeks. She didn't even say _his_ name and when it was spoken, everyone couldn't help but notice she'd flinch slightly as if she'd been slapped.

But that wasn't it, there was more.

She could feel him.

It wasn't really a physical thing, it was...well...it went beyond explaining. She just knew it was him and he was near, or perhaps he'd just thought of her. Kagome wasn't entirely sure how it worked or whether it really could work that way, but that's what she felt. Like if he thought of her or vice versa, the other would just know as if by instinct. It was like having your own telephone inside your head that'd ring and ring endlessly. You could never really answer it but you could acknowledge the sound. Sometimes she'd feel hopeful at this feeling, for reasons that were beyond her. Mostly, it was annoying. The lurching sensation she'd feel just before it'd happen was disorienting, and sort of comparable experientially to when she'd feel a shikon shard near...only much more intense. It was like he was plucking a thin cord attached to her senses and it was often so strong, so violently urgent, that she'd almost lose her footing when she felt it.

After a bit, she'd come to anticipate the pull and found herself just stopping and standing in place after feeling it. Her eyes would close and though she tried to convince herself that she was trying not to feel it. To block it out. In truth, when her eyes closed she felt it more deeply as if she were diving into his soul. Just the thought of that feeling was enough to send shivers down her spine.

Kagome knew that something had changed and every day it became more obvious to her. However, this wasn't what bothered her. It was the longing behind the pull that told her _he_ was near that frightened her. There was a sharp pain in her heart that wasn't guilt driven and for the merest of seconds, she'd feel like she couldn't breathe.

She knew what that pain was, or could guess, though she'd never admit to anyone...much less herself.

Even still, as the days passed she'd find herself gazing at the horizon, turned in whatever direction his pull came from. The resistance she put up those first few weeks soon faded and she found herself more often than not, closing her eyes and just feeling. Oftentimes, when she'd wake from this trance she'd find herself several yards away from her friends and she'd have to resist the urge to continue forward.

What the body wanted, the mind resisted and the heart denied. It made her feel sick inside. And so every minute of the day was spent repeating an endless mantra of 'Never Again'.

Turbulent emotional crisis aside, a month and a half had passed uneventfully and thankfully she hadn't seen _him_...even though he was never far from her thoughts much to her disgust and dismay.

The mere longing she'd experienced earlier in the month had progressed into a deep and nearly uncontrollable fire by this point. It raged within her and set her skin on aflame, crawling underneath her veins, behind her eyes. It was everywhere, in everything and she found herself, night after night, alone in her sleeping bag fighting the urge to follow the pull. She was restless and irritable, which everyone else, for the most part, attributed to the miserable time they had shard hunting.

Not only had they found exactly NO shards, but they'd managed to run into almost every demon in greater Japan that wanted theirs. Worse, it had rained non-stop for the last three days. Yesterday, Sango had slipped in the mud during a fight and had sprained her ankle which had a lump that had swollen to the size of a baseball. Defeated and dejected, they headed for home immediately to wait the rain out and to allow their injuries to heal.

It would be a couple of days before the swelling in Sango's ankle would go down enough for them to see how long it'd take to heal and only the gods knew when it would stop raining. So...Kagome had decided to go home for a bit. Inuyasha had offered to accompany her but feeling like she did right now, she refused. She didn't really needed to be mother-hen-ed, especially by him, the tyrannical despot of all mother hens.

No, what she need was some time alone to think and regroup. She also needed at least one guilt free minute to herself. And to be honest, she was tired of people tip-toeing around her like she'd break.

It was raining lightly as she walked towards the well. The already dark grey sky deepened somberly; day turning to night behind the watchful layer of clouds. Unconsciously, Kagome's steps quickened. She wanted to reach the dry well before dark and before the sky let loose the tempest that had threatened all day.

The trees shifted above, causing errant droplets of water to fall from the leaves they'd rested on. Pittering on her umbrella as she passed underneath, she shivered. The wind had picked up and more droplets fell.

Kagome wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the tranquility of the forest or maybe she'd just come to terms with things on her own but as the well came into view she finally felt in her heart that things would be okay. She would be okay. After all, you can't change the past. You can just move forward towards the future.

All the moping she was doing was entirely pointless. She'd made one stupid mistake but in the end nothing had to change. Everyone already acted as if nothing had happened and in a way, didn't that make it so? Anyway, what difference did it make that something HAD?

No difference at all.

She had more important things to worry about. There was the ever present threat of Naraku. Their individual bids for vengeance and the reassembly of the jewel. And...ultimately, what to do with the jewel once complete. She had to concentrate on that. The wish. The one pure wish...the only thing that could rid the world of the accursed jewel once and for all, that was more important.

In the long run, her temporary insanity with Sesshoumaru didn't seem so horribly huge and all consuming. And really, if she thought about it...in the long run...saving Sesshoumaru was in their best interests. He wanted revenge as much as the rest of them.

Who really cared how it came about in the end?

It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her chest at that precise moment. She was free again. Kagome stopped just in front of the well, a small smile forming on her face as she listened to the rain as it hit her umbrella. It pinged softly as it hit the synthetic surface and it was the most beautiful sound in the world to her.

Feeling serene for the first time in weeks, she smiled just a bit wider and slowly drew the umbrella down taking away the boundary between her and the rain. She closed her eyes and lifted her face, smile never wavering, as it began to rain harder. Allowing the rain to soak into her face, her hair, her skin, her clothes, everything. She was reminded of a movie her friend Ayumi had forced her to watch.

It was a little known fact that of all her friends Ayumi was the most obsessed with all things American. In particular, she was a rabid fan of old Hollywood musicals. Everyone teased her about it, Kagome included.

In defense of her current obsession, she'd forced everyone to sit down and watch one. Kagome couldn't quite remember the name of the movie but she did recall that she'd thought it wasn't all THAT bad. Plus, she got to practice her English skills as Ayumi insisted upon watching it in its original language with subtitles.

This day...the way she was feeling...it reminded her of that movie.

Twirling and dancing in the rain, she laughed lightly as she tried to sing the words to an American tune she barely remembered. Wrapped up in her own joy, she barely felt the tug on her soul until it became unbearably painful.

Gasping, she stopped mid-twirl and stumbled towards the well, heart pounding. She leaned against it with one hand as the world around her tipped and reeled. For a moment or two, she thought that her sudden vertigo was temporary. Dancing in the rain like a child had winded her and she hadn't really eaten that much today. Even though something inside told her different.

Kagome shivered, feeling the subtle swipe of youki against her senses.

She stood abruptly, trembling from pain and fear. He was here. She knew it. Her eyes darted between sky and forest searching for him. Why was he doing this? Why was he here...tormenting her?

They'd both been clear at their last meeting. She hadn't told anyone. So he had no reason to do this. No reason at all. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

Why couldn't it just be over?

A whisper of silk shifted behind her. Shivering, she froze momentarily before turning, half expecting him to be there. A completely silent forest and an empty field greeted her. Confused and a bit afraid, she turned 'round and 'round, scanning the area for the figure she never wanted to see again. Gradually, her panic dissipated as she realized he was nowhere to be found. Kagome sighed in relief, putting a hand to a fluttering heart. He was just messing with her. She couldn't imagine why he would but at least he hadn't come. Really, she wasn't sure what would happen if he did and she really, really didn't want to find out.

Kagome laughed shrilly, gripping the wood of the well. Hair plastered wetly against her cheek, she laughed even harder and though it was meant to sound lighthearted, what came out was a bit harsh and almost hysterical. Opening her eyes, she watched errant droplets of rain as they rolled down her arms to gather and fall from her fingers to the wood beneath them.

Her imagination was apparently working double-time today.

With a short, almost weary, exhalation she straightened and stretched before she prepared to leap into the well. She paused, eyes widening in alarm before her entire body stiffened. A hand wrapped around her neck every so languidly, claws nicking her skin...a thumb snaking out to caress the flesh just behind her ear.

Desire rippled through her and she gasped soundlessly, feeling the ties that bound them strengthen...wrapping around each other like embracing lovers. Her eyes half-lidded, she struggled to control herself. She had to hold firm. She couldn't give in...not again but deep inside...she could hear the bell toll and a traitorous voice in the back of her mind whispering to her that resistance was futile.

Her resolve was weakened when his hand left her throat and trailed down her back instead. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved from her back to her waist until she could feel him splay his hand and press gently into her stomach. Eyes fluttering, she felt as if she'd jumped from the top of a very high building. Dizzy with sensation, she wasn't sure if he'd pulled her to him or if she'd simply fallen. She realized that maybe it was a bit of both.

He was warm and soft, and she couldn't help but revel in the way his chest felt as it pressed against her back. Leaning into him even more, the more sensible her struggled in vain, whispering to the not listening parts of her that this was very, very wrong. Opening her eyes, she gazed at the trees beyond the well through the rain, trying to ignore the breath on her neck. _No. Stop. Don't_. The words were listless and half meant, and she closed her eyes in anticipation just before she felt his mouth on her flesh.

The world around became absolutely soundless as the rain poured down relentlessly. Kagome found that she was unable to move, much less think. She stood there, acutely aware of each droplet as it soaked her skin, hair and clothes. Rolling down her face and neck to drip down her cleavage just as his blood had done on that fateful afternoon. She tried to ignore the similarities but couldn't help remembering as his tongue drew circles on her skin with each lingering kiss he placed on her neck and shoulders. Opening her eyes, she blinked away the rain that coated her eyelashes. Lightening flashed, turning the dark forest a bright, haunted purple. Her heart roared like the thunder...in denial...shuddering when she felt the slight scraping of teeth on her flesh. Her hand reached back, searching for something...anything to hold on to or maybe it was to try and stop him, her mind was too muzzy and confused to choose properly.

Fingers brushing against his left shoulder and clenched empty silk -- he stiffened and she gasped.

The ground beneath her feet was mushy, water and mud gushing into her shoes and between her toes as she stood there. More lightening illuminated the sky in bursts, sometimes hitting a bit too close for comfort, followed shortly thereafter by a deafening crack of thunder. It was as if the natural world surrounding her had reminded her that there were some things you didn't touch. Gulping, she let fear overtake her. Immediately, she drew her hand back and tensed against him, the spell on her seemingly broken. And though she didn't move, her body became taut as she strained as far away from him as she could...if only he'd let her go.

His hand was still splayed on her stomach, his fingers digging into her flesh as if to push her back to him.

She told herself she wasn't afraid. She praised herself for resisting the trap she'd so easily fallen into before. And she prayed to whatever benevolent gods were out there that she'd make it out of here alive so that she could be happy about that fact. Kagome took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

Putting her hand over his and tugging, she turned her head and whispered, "Please...let me go."

His claws dug in harder as a response. She fell back against him with a soundless cry. He'd broken skin. She could feel it. Trembling and trapped against him, she tried not to cry.

"Please," she wailed hoarsely, "This isn't right...just..."

Dragging his claws against her stomach, he murmured into her skin, "I know this." A beat and then... "I should have killed you when I had the chance..."

His eyes were sleepily half-lidded as he growled lowly. It was a dark and dangerous sound, but so soft that she didn't so much hear it as she felt the vibrations through her back. Thrusting his hips slowly, he pressed into her backside as his claws continued to rake across her abdomen, ripping her skirt as he went. Simultaneously, he placed a languid, opened mouth kiss against her neck...licking the rainwater that ran in rivulets down her skin which felt too tight or maybe it was too loose. Whichever it was, she knew she was uncomfortable. She hurt. She...burned. Her powers hummed beneath her flesh as if trying to escape, lifting away from underneath — tangling and intertwining sensually with Sesshoumaru's youki. Struggling to maintain control and losing, her hands dropped to her sides and she pressed back into him, moaning nervously as he tortured her with tongue and teeth.

She had to stop this...she...she...

In a drunken, euphoric haze, she allowed the all consuming fire she'd kept in check up till now loose, engulfing her entire body in bluish-white flames. She squirmed against him. Uncomfortable but too afraid to touch...too afraid to fully embrace what she felt. He sighed. A sound she wouldn't have caught had he not been so close to her ear. She felt him press his face into her hair before he bent her over, their bodies melding so tightly together that they seemed as one. The delirious sensation of his hips pushing against her made her tremble with simultaneous desire and terror.

Never again seemed to be a promise she couldn't keep. And the bell inside tolled more deeply...and she knew that the fire inside...she...would drown here...in him.

She leaned back, her hand finding his thigh and squeezing it. Brushing against his hip, she slipped her hand between their bodies. She could feel the edges of his fundoshi underneath the fine silk of his sashinuki. Wantonly, she traced those edges, kneading the soft flesh above his member. She couldn't reach any farther and she was disappointed that all she could do was massage the base of his shaft with her fingers.

He snarled huskily, pushing away her hand. Their bodies rubbed against each other, hands wandering aimlessly as lust overwhelmed any shred of sense either of them had left.

All they knew was want and the never ending, never to be satisfied urge that begged for completion.

Confused and unused to the fastenings on her modern clothes, his claws tore more desperately at her dress. If it wouldn't come off one way, he'd destroy it. Distressed, she quickly stilled his hand and unzipped it herself, letting it fall to the ground around her legs--better for it to be caked with mud than torn to shreds.

She was about to do the same with her underwear but before she could stop him he unceremoniously ripped them off of her. His hand slipped down her thigh to cup her crotch, pressing the tips of his fingers inward lightly--gently massaging her. The slight pressure was explosive and her knees went weak She grasped the lip of the well, using it to prop herself up and to push herself flush against him. In the moment, she would have given anything to have turned around to touch him, really touch him... to kiss... to_ love_... but she was still too afraid... too hesitant and distrustful of her own feelings.

Through the rain and the thunder, she could hear him move. His hand had left her thigh and he shifted behind her. When she looked down, she could see his pants had joined her skirt and she shivered with anticipation.

Abruptly, he pushed himself inside with a guiding hand as he prodded her teasingly for a moment before plunging into her... uncaring of the agony he caused. Her knuckles went white as she clutched the side of the well, gritting her teeth against the pain yet reveling in the realization that he was inside her. He pulled out slowly and penetrated her again, harder this time, so hard that her teeth clicked against each other uncomfortably.

And though their auras danced around each other enticingly as they had before, there was no ancient rumbling of magic in the act that followed. His thrusts were hard and angry as he grunted over her, his hand at her hip... claws digging in her flesh as he held her there. Taking her by sheer primal force, he didn't care for her pleasure in the least. He cared only for himself and once he was spent, he left her alone, abused and unsatisfied.

His last words to her before he disappeared were a command to return to this spot on the next new moon. No threat of death or dismemberment, just a simple command. One that he knew she had no more choice to obey than he did.

She gathered her torn dress and ruined underwear and though she wanted to, she didn't cry. Jumping into the well, she thanked the gods her mother hadn't been awake to see her in the state she was in. Kagome cleaned herself up and went to bed, finally crying just like she wanted to. The next few days passed so slowly that she wondered if she was standing still. She'd spent an entire day in bed depressed but unable to talk about it.

Inuyasha had come later on in the evening. He sniffed the air and looked at her quizzically, demanding to know what the hell was wrong with her. For a terrifying moment, she'd thought that perhaps he could smell his brother on her. Maybe her scent had changed because she wasn't a virgin now. A whole host of similar thoughts came to her and she stared at him in wide eyed alarm. And then she burst into tears.

Completely flabbergasted, the hanyou spent the next few minutes trying to explain himself. A difficult feat, some might say impossible. In between his sputtering protests, she tried to tell him everything that happened but she was blubbering so hard that he couldn't make out any intelligible words besides the fact that he wasn't really listening to her to begin with. Frustrated with it all, he knocked her on the head, called her stupid and commanded her to shut up and listen to him which got him his first 'sitting' in weeks.

When all was said and done, she had found out that he'd only sensed her distress. She hadn't had the courage to ask if he could detect whether or not she was still a virgin. Mostly because after she'd calmed down, she had realized how stupid that idea was. Virginity wasn't something you could smell and the rain had taken care of _his _scent.

This all should have made her felt marginally better. She should have been comforted that her mistake wouldn't be found out, but she wasn't. If anything, it made her depression worse. So bad, in fact, that her mother had gotten tired of her moping and had forced her to call one of her friends to go out. Kagome had been reluctant at first but had eventually relented.

The next day she'd gone out with Ayumi, the only one of her former high school friends she really saw anymore. Eri was too busy with university and Yuka with her fiancé and her plans for their wedding. Ayumi herself was quite busy. She had a full time job as an office lady and a boyfriend to boot, but she, unlike her other friends, somehow always made time for Kagome. The minute Kagome's mother had made the call, she'd hightailed it to the shrine to comfort her anguished friend. It was just like old times.

They'd gone out to lunch after Ayumi had prodded her mercilessly about getting up. Once alone with her friend, she had confessed, weeping the entire time, to the whole messy affair with Sesshoumaru between the salad and the main entree. Kagome had anticipated anger and disgust. Instead, Ayumi had patted her hand and told her she had nothing to be ashamed of.

"That two-timer still hasn't chosen, has he? Really, Kagome, he can't expect you to wait forever!"

And to be perfectly honest, she HAD waited forever. All of her friends had been in normal, healthy adult relationships while she was still stuck in junior high... she hadn't even had her first kiss until that day with _him_. Pining over Inuyasha had prevented her from experiencing the normal milestones for a girl her age.

She would have waited forever for Inuyasha. She knew it.

Thinking about it, she could see the years stretching out into an eternity where she'd be an old maid... a spinster who lived in a creepy old house at the end of the block with fifty cats.

She couldn't wait forever and she couldn't continue to beat herself up over this.

Ayumi gave her one last piece of sage advice. "You ought to tell him. It's only fair and it's the right thing to do."

Kagome had given her a tearful smile and hugged her, promising to speak to Inuyasha just as soon as she could. Holding it all in had done no good, besides if she explained it all, with Miroku and Sango to back her up, she couldn't fail. He'd see it wasn't her fault and that she hadn't consciously betrayed him.

It had all been a horrible, horrible mistake. A mistake she'd made twice but now was doubly resolved to never make again. She set out for the feudal era determined and when she'd caught up with Inuyasha and the others, she was prepared to lay everything bare. But as they traveled, she was mired by endless inconveniences and never found the right time to tell him. She had hoped to break it to him when they were alone. Better to give him bad news that way than to humiliate him in front of everyone; that was her reasoning anyway. But they never seemed to _be_ alone... ever. Someone or something was always interrupting them. And once she managed to get him alone, he was invariably in a bad mood already... and she didn't really need a proverb to tell her that giving an irate hanyou bad news when he was already in a pissy mood was a terrible idea.

Naraku had stepped things up recently and with Kikyou's death... well... she had concluded that there really wasn't a good time to tell him anything. So instead, she gave into despair. Ayumi's words banged around in her head endlessly, and after awhile she began to resent them. She resented the whole situation. To make things worse, _he_ was there all the time, _watching_.

She could feel him all the time now, no matter the distance. It was as if he was taunting her, never allowing her to forget what they'd done or were about to do. So that every minute of every day, all she could think of was the coming of the new moon and what new degradations it'd bring. And the need she felt, the horrible anticipation, was frightening. It was almost like she looked forward to it and it sickened her. She needed to tell Inuyasha. She needed to confess so that he could be mad. So that they could end this and she could draw her strength from him again, because time was running out. And though she told herself never again, she knew... she knew what a lie that was.

Her own magic was needling her from within. The purity of it burning and scraping against the walls, stretching and pushing constantly, wanting to be out and free. It was like a thirst, and though she was surrounded on all sides by water... drowning in it... that thirst was unquenchable.

It made her feel empty and raw. No matter how much she ate, how much she drank, she never felt relief. She'd sleep and sleep, but never feel rested. There was only the need -- the nagging, insistent need. It gave her migraines. Made her joints ache. And just yesterday, she'd succumbed to a high fever, passing out right in the middle of the road. She didn't know how much she could take, but she soon found out when she'd collapsed, forcing the entire party to rush her back to the well.

Exhausted as she was, she had forced herself to argue with Inuyasha. He had gotten her home and refused to leave. More than anything, she just wanted to be alone, miserable and sick. She felt like hell, and the last thing in the world that she wanted was an over-concerned hanyou dancing around underfoot. The concept was quite simple. Problem was, Inuyasha couldn't seem to grasp it. The only thing that ended the argument and prevented a 'sitting' was that her mother had agreed with her, and had told him to come back in three days. He reluctantly complied, leaving her to fall into a fitful sleep.

She awoke a few hours later, soaked in sweat, her heart pounding. Her joints ached worse than ever; hurting so badly that she felt like it might tear her apart. Trembling violently, she gritted her teeth as a wave of intense agony rippled up and down her spine. All of a sudden, she felt incredibly nauseous, bolting out of bed to make a run for the restroom, where she spent the next twenty minutes dry heaving until her stomach cramped. Taking a single, shaky breath, she rested her head on the toilet seat. Still jittery from the pain and the excess adrenalin in her system, she breathed in and out slowly until her stomach finally calmed.

She stood, feeling numb in mind and spirit, and staggered through the darkened hallways of her home. All thought was abruptly bent towards getting to the well, despite the protests of her rational self. She barely remembered how she'd gotten to the well, much less how she'd made the journey to the other side. But somehow, she had... because here she was, sitting next to the feudal era version of the well. The damp grass soaked through the thin shift she wore, making her uncomfortable and cold. She was too exhausted to care, resting her head against the wall as she stared out into space listlessly.

The pain had subsided because she was here. Looking up, she noticed the darkened sky. No moon... _new_ moon.

_He _was here... She shivered. And he separated from the shadows like shifting moonlight. He raised his hand, beckoning her, and she rose without hesitation, following him into darkness – towards her own damnation.

They walked through the forest until they came upon the clearing from their first encounter, and he took her there just as he had before. He _used_ her, took her roughly and gave her nothing. And when he was done, he left her alone in that clearing. Alone and despairing.

It went on like this for weeks. At first, she had tried to justify to herself to push back the guilt. Tried to rationalize, to lie to herself so that she didn't feel so dirty. Nothing helped, and though she didn't want to... she always came back and let herself be used. And in the end, she never really understood why...

By the time she realized what was happening she was in too deep and any chance for redemption, much less forgiveness, was gone with the wind.

Each night they'd meet, it'd be the same. He always took her from behind and never faced her. And when he was done, he'd leave. Never even looking at her once. It was beyond impersonal. He was using her, and she let him. She. _LET_. him. What made things even worse was that she realized that in a way, she was using him as much as he was using her. It was sick, wrong and too much to bear, and every single time her screwed her, because that's all that it was, she wept. She'd bury her head in her arms and she'd weep, biting her own flesh to silence the sobs. Let him think it was passion that moved her, that made her tremble. Not that it'd matter to_ him_ if it wasn't. He didn't care.

He didn't care.

He didn't care.

He didn't care.

That thought ran through her mind, wreaking havoc on her confidence, stealing any strength she had left. She was betraying Inuyasha, betraying him and herself with someone who didn't care. He didn't care for her. It shouldn't have mattered that he didn't. She shouldn't want him to care. But she did... In her secret heart, she did.

What they were doing would be quite so wrong if he did. If he cared... _IF_... then it'd almost be like... it would be...

She couldn't express the thought in words, but it was important. She didn't know why, but it was. She wanted. She wanted to be something to somebody. Even if it was him. To be special. To be cherished. But she was nothing, _nothing_ to_ him_, and she'd be worse than nothing to Inuyasha once he found out. No matter how careful they were, they were playing a dangerous game. He'd find out, and all hell would break loose that day, she knew it.

But now, now there was nothing but him and her, and the meadow. Laying her head on her arms, she braced herself against the giant rock she'd rested on seemingly a lifetime ago. She braced herself and waited. He came. Just like clockwork. Always on schedule, never ever late. And just like always, she could hear him as he shifted out of his clothes, and before she knew it, he was behind her. Then inside her.

It was a bitter routine.

He was warm as he leaned over her. Warm but so cold. Strands of his hair escaped as he grunted behind her. He was so demanding in his lovemaking, so forceful that she'd often end up with scrapes and bruises that barely had time to heal in between sessions from the rock she lay herself on for him. Not that he cared.

She watched his hair dance against her arm, so beautiful and pale. So much like someone she actually loved. Sometimes she liked to pretend it was Inuyasha. She'd close her eyes, and if she allowed herself to dream it almost became him, until she opened her eyes. It was the stripped wrist that gave it away. His hair could fall over his shoulder and she could pretend all she wanted, but that wrist... that wrist was a dead giveaway. Those stripes burned her eyes, and she turned away, burying her head in her arms like always. But unlike all the other times, she didn't hide her sorrow. She wept openly, unable to contain it any longer.

Her sobs wouldn't stop him. She knew it, because he didn't care.

Sobbing uncontrollably, she let her tears fall. They were hot and wet, uncomfortable and sticky, sliding down her cheeks like roiling streams of molten lava. Her nose was running. Her throat was dry and hoarse. And she _hurt_.

She could feel it. It was so cliché, but she could actually feel herself dying inside. And like a drowning man, she'd gotten to the point where she no longer had the will to push for the surface. She had stopped struggling and allowed herself to sink, watching as the sun was blotted out by black water... sinking further and further into the dark, until she was engulfed.

He stopped abruptly, as he always did. No doubt finished with her. He would leave and she'd be alone in her misery again. She waited for the sounds of him dressing, and the whoosh of air that always heralded his departure. In fact, she was anxious for it, humiliated as she was by her break down. But the sounds she was anticipating never came. He didn't leave. In fact, he had barely moved, other than to pull himself out of her. He hovered above her, his chest brushing against her back as he breathed. Her sobs quieted a bit, but never stopped entirely. He moved away then, but he still didn't leave, standing behind her like a demanding watchdog.

This break in routine was a shock to her system. She didn't know what to do. Hesitantly, she glanced behind to look at him. Her breath hitched, but she no longer sobbed. Her tears were silent now, coursing down her face like an engorged river. He was naked as the day he was born, just standing there, glaring at her. His deep golden eyes boring into her caustically, and like acid corroding metal, they burned. She shuddered, slipping down to the ground slowly as her legs gave out from underneath her.

What did he want now?

What more could he take from her? She had nothing. Was nothing!

Overwhelmed, she buried her face in her hands and her sobbing began anew. Losing all sense of self and place, she wept longer and harder than she had in her life. She barely recognized the anguished sounds coming from her throat as her own. She couldn't take this anymore. But she kept coming back. She couldn't stay away no matter how much she wanted, couldn't stop wanting him. Her body remembered the first time. Remembered it and craved the power it gave her, always. But every encounter afterward was increasingly less satisfying. The addictive, drug-like euphoria their joining had once produced was gone. Yet she still came back... betrayed Inuyasha... for this... emptiness?

He tore her hands away.

Holding her wrists in his only hand, he shook her sharply. It only made her sob harder. He shook her again, harder. It changed nothing but the pitch of her sobs as they slid manically from desperation to fear like a slide whistle. He loosened his grip, allowing one of her hands to escape. She immediately hid her face from him with it. The raspy sound of her continual wailing turned harsh and guttural as she choked on her own phlegm. She let out a series of loud, hacking coughs that ripped the lining in her throat terribly. Gulping air, she tried to calm herself but found that she could only manage to taper down the sobbing to a rather pathetic wheeze.

It was embarrassing, being so entirely naked in front of him – vulnerable.

And it occurred to her that he'd taken everything now. There wasn't a shred of dignity left in her. This didn't help her stop crying. In fact, it only made it worse. So much worse that she wanted to find a hole to bury herself in. Instead, she was stuck here, gasping like an asthmatic and despite the fact that she was out of tears, she couldn't stop crying. _Damn it_.

All she could hope was that he was enjoying the show. _Probably was, the bastard_, she thought, and that thought was enough for her to reign herself in. She wasn't exactly composed, but at least she wasn't hysterical, though she did have some trouble breathing properly. But it was much better than nothing.

Her next self-assigned task was to remove his hand from her other wrist. He'd had his fun. She didn't want him touching her. Not like he was right now, anyway. His thumb kept brushing the juncture between her thumb and wrist, sending little shivers up and down her spine. It made her want to cry, though she wasn't sure if it was from sheer desperate frustration or the unwanted desire she felt for him. She was aware he was being almost gentle; the hold he had on her wasn't bruising as it should have been. And she didn't like it. Didn't like it at all. She meant nothing to him. The way he'd treated her up till now proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. Why complicate things?

Being one who was as contrary as the sun and the moon put together, he denied her the pleasure of a solution to her dilemma. He let go of her hand. But before she could register just what it was he was doing, his hand shot out and thumbed away a tear as it tumbled down her cheek. She gasped and pulled away, her eyes bulging in surprise as her hand reflexively touched the spot his thumb had brushed.

What was he playing at?

Breathing heavily, she stared at him. He didn't meet her gaze as he drew his hand in. His eyes were draw to his fingers as they tested her teardrops, rubbing them between thumb and forefinger like a scientist before he abruptly ceased all movement, looking for all the world like a movie still frame; eternally paused mid-motion. With a single, dangerously languid movement, he lifted his head up and shifted his intimidating gaze to her.

Kagome was suddenly aware of every little discomfort. Aware of her tear streaked cheeks, all sticky and hot. Her nose was all gummy on the inside which made her whistle with each breath she took. Her feet had fallen asleep awhile back, and so she was trying to fidget them awake and it wasn't working. Her hair was a mess. Her face was red and puffy from crying. And she hadn't set her hand back down. She'd just held it there in midair as if she were in a restaurant signaling for a waiter. Slowly, she set it down and tried to think of something else but nothing came. She felt pathetic in front of him, like a movie star caught walking down the red carpet with a tit hanging out; utterly exposed and completely humiliated. Mortified by her own ridiculousness, she bowed her head.

He didn't like that and she only knew because he grabbed her by her chin and forced her to look up. His thumb dug into her cheek as he held her there for several minutes as he stared at her. She suddenly realized how close his thumb was to her eye as the tip of his claw came into focus. He never did anything that wasn't premeditated or planned, for the most part. She understood fully that touching her this way had nothing to do with concern, as it would for most normal people. He was threatening her in the subtlest possible way. No words or actions were necessary. Only the implied pain he promised he could and would inflict. Her heart stopped and her gaze shifted from it to him. He looked perfectly placid and untroubled. Even so, she could feel his discontent as it stirred the air around them. More than anything, she wanted to look away, to run away, but she couldn't because she was far too afraid to move.

With deliberate slowness, he slid his thumb across her cheek, leaving behind a thin, shallow cut. It would be the only warning he'd ever give her and if she failed to heed it... His hand fell away, drawn back in as he licked the blood from the tip of his nail, his eyes never once leaving hers. She wanted so very much to look away, but the look on his face told her that she best look him in the eye or not at all. It didn't much matter what she wanted one way or the other. All ways were his ways, after all. He would not indulge her emotions. Of this, she was rather bitterly aware.

"Why."

It was a statement and a question at the same time, a concept so perplexing it took her a few moments to gather her wits about her. _Why? Why what?_ She never voiced the question. Her face, however, spoke volumes. His response was equally nonverbal. He held up his hand, rubbing his fingers together as he gestured at her face. She understood, her hands brushing the skin just underneath her eyes in turn.

_He wanted to know_...

Her breath caught for a moment as she struggled to find an answer. Truly, it was one of the more surreal moments in her life. And considering just how many moments of surreality she'd experienced, that was saying a lot.

"Why?" he asked again, and though his voice was colorless, she could tell he was annoyed at having to repeat himself.

She jumped, his tone startling the answer out of her. "B-because, I'm ashamed," she whispered hoarsely, unable to think of a quick lie good enough to fool him.

His eyes narrowed briefly and for a moment she was sure he was going to kill her. But he didn't. He just looked away and nodded, grunting softly in understanding. Yes, shame was a gift no one wanted but everyone seemed to have in abundance, even him. She noticed his thumb and forefinger hadn't stopped moving. He was looking away into the distance. Cold and immoveable like a stone, but his fingers never stopped moving. It was fascinating.

"Does it help?"

She'd heard his voice but not the question as she was too absorbed in watching his fingers. "Hmm, what?"

This time he didn't seem annoyed. His head was cocked as he stared at her inquiringly. She imagined that maybe he was trying to figure her out, which was ridiculous but he certainly looked like that was just what he was trying to do. His fingers stopped moving.

"Crying. Does it help?"

She snorted quietly, a small, tired smirk finding its way to her lips. What a thing for him to ask. "No, not really."

They spent an eternity under the moonlight just looking at each other as they had so often on the battlefield – combatants on their separate sides of the field. Cut off from one another by a yawning chasm of their own making. Waiting quietly in the dark, they could feel the chasm closing, and like drifting continents, they were destined to collide into each other. And the real question was which of them would break first.

"Then what's the point."

It wasn't a question that required an answer – it wasn't a question at all. But she answered it anyway. "Because I don't know what else to do..."

Ah, there was helplessness there and immeasurable truth. She could feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes but no matter how hard she tried she could not stop them. Unlike her tears earlier, these came in silent, gentle waves, coursing hotly down her cheek. She made no move to stop them. Her lip trembled as she watched him stare at her with empty dispassion. But the anticipated remark about the weakness of humans never came. A strange light entered his eyes as an emotion neither dared name flickered through them. She shivered, wrapping her arms lightly around her, even though the night wasn't cold at all.

He leaned in, his hand lifting ever so slowly to close the distance between them. She held her breath as he touched her cheek. His fingers grazed her jawbone, moving through her tears and streaking them across her skin like invisible tribal war-paint. He moved upwards, his forefinger tracing over the edge of her ear before burying his hand in her hair. The action was so unconsciously erotic that she hadn't even realized she'd leaned in to accommodate him. Pulling back slightly, she grabbed his wrist and tried to pry it off.

'Tried' being the operative word.

Her fingers could barely even curl around his entire wrist, while his had engulfed hers entirely. It was a sobering illustration of the difference between them; his strength and her weakness. Despite knowing this, she didn't let his wrist go. If anything, she tightened her hold, determined to let him know that she wouldn't allow him to play with her, threats or no threats. He had no right.

The message was either not received or ignored entirely. She could feel his claws scraping her scalp a bit as he dug further into her hair, pulling her forward by the back of her head. Panicking, she dug her fingernails into his skin, knowing they couldn't do anything. It was instinct, pure instinct that drove her to it. He didn't notice as he leaned in. She felt his mouth on her neck and closed her eyes, willing herself to not feel any gratification, to no avail. Her lips had gone dry. Any air in her lungs had escaped, still she breathed out – a single, uninterrupted gasp of pleasure. She let go of his wrist, her hand dropping to cover her heart.

And she realized then that this was his strange way of comforting her. He knew nothing else. No words. No empty gestures. He knew how to bring pleasure if he so desired, and he hadn't up until now... but now, now he would give this gift to her.

She whispered his name breathily, her entire body tensing in anticipation just thinking of it.

He breathed in deeply and pulled away. His eyes had turned a deep bronze and she swore she could see entire galaxies in them as he looked down on her – waiting – for a sign or a signal, she couldn't guess. But those eyes, those eyes were as old and ageless as the stars. How many years had passed before them... and what had they seen? She would never ask and he would never tell, because they both knew he'd seen too much.

She suddenly pitied him – for having lived so long, for being jaded by those years. He was a stone in the desert, gradually being worn away by the wind and the sand. Heart beating heavily in her chest, she hesitantly reached out a hand, fingers uncurling as she touched his cheek. Splaying outward, she smoothed his skin, lightly tracing his neck and collarbone before her hand came to rest on his chest. Palm pressing into his flesh so that she could feel the heart beating underneath.

Hand on her heart, hand on his.

She thought that maybe it wasn't anyone's fault they were here. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe guilt and shame didn't really enter into this. There was _just_ this... him and her and the starlit sky, and somehow it'd all be okay. And then she kissed him; her lips just brushing the side of his mouth shyly. He didn't return it at first. She couldn't know it wasn't something he did regularly. She assumed, but she was wrong, about a great many things. But in the end he did return her kiss. Returned it tenfold. He surged forward, overwhelming her in his ardor for her. She went limp, hands clutching at his shoulders to ground herself.

He stiffened, as he always did, when anyone or anything came near his ruined shoulder. But she didn't notice and because she didn't the moment passed quietly. He pulled her to him and wrapping her legs around his waist and lifting her up, he pressed her against the stone they'd abandoned. Guiding her hands around his neck, he let her go and guided himself back into her. Making love to her the way his people had traditionally done for thousands of years, standing up.

She shuddered as he entered her. And that feeling she always had with him, like she was drowning, faded. As if someone had finally thrown her an inner-tube and she was grasping onto it; holding onto it for dear life as he thrust into her languidly, his body rolling over her -- pushing in and pulling out with delirious slowness. His rhythm was regularly irregular as he continually sought out places inside her that brought the most pleasure to them both without sending them over that proverbial edge. He was so careful with her, so attentive, that she couldn't help but feel a rush of desperate gratefulness, as if he were the owner of that life preserver... as if he'd thrown it himself and was dragging her into shore.

All the guilt and recrimination was washed away, and for a moment, just one sweet moment, she felt treasured. Loved. As if she mattered to him in some amorphous way. It was ridiculous and she knew it, but with each thrust that feeling became harder and harder to hold at bay. The exquisite pleasure of having him inside her, having that fire inside quenched, and the strange sense that her world had been turned on its heel, all merged and then she saw stars behind her closed eyes, and nothing much else mattered. Warmth overwhelmed her, her ki and his youki combining so entirely, so explosively that the owners of those powers nearly blacked out from the shock of it.

A corona of light had surrounded them. It shimmered in the moonlight, twisting around them like a living fireworks display. And behind her eyes, into the deeper well where her normal vision couldn't go, the quivering physical pleasure she felt was reflected in the endless lapping waves of purifying fire which was sucked in and out in sensuous rhythm. And in-between the bright blue pulse points of purity were sparks of dark greenish-gold. Those sparks violently collided with the pulsing waves, disrupting the tide like jutting spires of rock, forcing the sea to collide with them.

In the moment, she knew that though the rock might seem so strong and immoveable, the sea would eventually wear it down more efficiently than any force in the world. And after a time it did. Until both pulsing streams of fire and light died down and intertwined like a pair of spent lovers.

In the aftermath, once whatever spell that had woven itself around them slunk away, they lay there frozen in the very image of those self same interlocked lovers. Lovers they were not. Kagome knew this, yet she couldn't help but think that it might not be so bad if they were. Silly. Childish. Hopeless. And helpless, because once she thought it she couldn't un-think it and it stuck there like a particularly unwanted guest that just wouldn't take the obvious hint to leave _already_! It was during this tumultuous bout of thinking too much that she realized something very important.

She hadn't really noticed while they were "making love", because, well, she'd been sort of occupied at the time, but it seemed that they were no longer on solid ground. A quick glance to the side confirmed this information. Panic hadn't really had time enough to settle in yet. In fact, her thoughts at this precise moment were something akin to: "_Huh. No wonder. The rock hadn't gotten more comfortable, we were just floating. Neat..._"

Her eyes widened and her hands tightened around Sesshoumaru's neck momentarily, until she realized that they weren't really floating. Not anymore, anyway. They were descending, albeit very slowly, to the ground. Plus, Sesshoumaru didn't seem all that worried and if he wasn't worried, then she'd be damned if she would be. She relaxed, shifting her gaze to the sky just over his shoulder. His hair fluttered lightly behind him, looking like delicate strands of webbing which were connecting the stars like not-so-imaginary lines of silver thread. She smiled at the thought. Even wondered what he'd think if she told him, not that she ever would. He shifted above her, lips brushing lightly against her skin. His head was resting against hers, his temple just touching cheekbone, and every time he breathed, it sent a shiver up her spine as it tickled the sensitive hairs on her neck. She sighed, closed her eyes and nuzzled his cheek with her own. Where was this going? What were they doing? She looked to the stars for an answer, as she always had but they said nothing, just blinked mutely with unhelpful brightness.

And suddenly there was earth beneath her feet and a rock pressed into her back. The world was a familiar place again. An unhappy place, as he whispered a thought he'd voiced many, many moons ago: "I should've killed you..."

The dream they just made was over. She knew it now because everything hurt. Her jaw clicked as she fought not to cry. She'd done enough of that lately. Her fingers dug into the thick flesh just below his neck, eyes hardening.

"And I should have left you to die. Get off me."

She didn't even have to push him and she had to admit she was a bit disappointed. She really wanted to push him. Hard. Dimly, she was a bit surprised he hadn't gone ballistic because she ordered him. Perhaps he just dismissed it because he wanted to get off of her as much as she wanted him off of her. There was a fleeting feeling of rejection. That after everything they'd felt only moments before, he could say something like that. She knew he felt it. He had to.

Frustrated and hurt, she gathered up her clothing and redressed as quickly as she could. She wanted to leave him before she failed to resist the suicidal urge to claw his eyes out. Buttoning her now very torn sweater up, she glanced behind her and noticed he hadn't finished dressing yet. He always finished dressing first. No matter how hard she tried, he'd always beaten her. Dressing quickly enough to leave before she even peeled herself off the ground or the rock or whatever other uncomfortable surface he'd pushed her down into while fucking her.

She watched him fumble with his obi no less than a dozen times with a smug kind of satisfaction. But after the thirteenth time, it sort of lost its appeal. Inhaling deeply in total resignation, she reluctantly walked over to him and smacked his hand away. A long, long time ago, she might have felt sorry for him. It was unusually cruel of her to take delight in the difficulties of others, especially considering the reason he was having problems with tying his own sash was sort of her fault. But right now all she could feel was an unreasonable annoyance with him. She was too tired to hate him, mild irritation would have to do.

Without looking him in the eyes, she carefully smoothed down the front of his kosode, making sure that the collar wasn't uneven or overlapping his juban. Satisfied, she looped his obi around his waist and tied it neatly. Her bow wasn't quite as complicated as the one he normally wore, but it'd do. She stepped back and surveyed her work. Yes, it'd do. She looked up at him and he looked down at her, and there were a few seconds where she almost fooled herself into thinking he was a real person; with feelings and everything.

Kagome snorted silently, shook her head and left. They were done here and she really had nothing more to say to him -- didn't want to see him, not until next month, next week, tomorrow... it didn't matter when really, because she knew he would disrupt her life, sooner than she'd like. It had been nothing but disruption upon disruption from the moment he barged into the village so many months before. But right now, right now she needed to be away from him. Far away. About five hundred years away would do.

This was how she found herself standing at the lip of the well. Looking down into the gaping black hole, there was a nasty part of her that sort of hoped it suddenly stopped working. Maybe she'd smash her head on a rock, and whether she ended up unconscious or dead didn't really matter at this point. Either way she'd get a long, dark vacation from the world.

"Don't be stupid, Kagome," she admonished herself. She'd promised not to think that way anymore. Resolved, she inhaled deeply to center herself, closing her eyes as she exhaled slowly. She could do this. Opening her eyes she prepared to jump, only to be tugged back. It was sort of a gentle tug. A warning tug. A tug that said: _Hey! I don't think you should be doing that_. There was a panicky moment where she almost thought it might be Inuyasha and she began to immediately come up with a list of excuses for whatever accusations he might throw at her. But then a darker suspicion entered her mind. Looking at the hand at her wrist, she bit back a scream of pure, unadulterated aggravation.

"Let go."

It occurred to her that she'd ordered him around no less than three times this evening and most likely this wasn't a particularly bright thing to do. He showed her what he thought of her latest request by pulling her back gently and setting her on the ground. He kept her pinned securely to his side as he gazed down into the well. Kagome wasn't sure how she ought to react. On one hand, she was annoyed that he'd obviously followed her and that he continually treated her like an object, rather than a person. On the other hand, it was almost nice of him to look out for her because that was sort of what he was doing, in his own odd way.

He turned to her then, pointedly looking from the well to her; his complete silence demanding an answer. _So he did have a caring bone in his body._

She crossed her arms, initially unwilling to answer him. But Sesshoumaru was a patient demon and both of them knew who'd be able to wait longer. In a test of wills, he'd always win. Sighing and rolling her eyes, she looked away and gave him the answer to his nonverbal question.

"It's a portal."

Eyebrows raised minutely, his head titled subtlety in disbelief. She really wanted to point out that he was a demon. A being that existed in a world of magic. Who the hell was he to question whether or not a dank and empty well was a magic portal to another world?! Okay, even in her head that sounded crazy but if she really thought about it, it did make an absurd kind of sense. Thankfully, she kept the thought to herself and nearly busted her brain for a coherent, completely not crazy response. How to answer a question without bringing up a whole series of extra questions?

She crossed her arms. At this point, she really just wanted to go home and she didn't much care if he killed her for being disrespectful. "Listen, I don't care if you believe me or not. That well," she said with quiet impatience, pointing to it for emphasis, "is a portal. It brought me here and takes me home. So, do you mind...?" She gestured absently, hoping he got the hint that she'd like him to not only move but let her go as well.

He did neither. Instead, he jumped up onto the lip of the well, still holding her in his only arm. For a brief, insane moment, she was convinced that maybe he intended to jump down with her. Maybe he wanted to see the future for himself and then she remembered that she really hadn't mentioned the future part of the portal, and he didn't seem too keen on jumping in either. He didn't seem inclined to do anything but hold onto her like a prize trophy while staring into the well distrustfully.

Just as she was about to explode, he did something unexpected – as unexpected as that very first kiss he'd stolen. He looked her deeply in the eyes and let her go. He stepped down, his eyes never leaving hers. Gracefully, he traced her cheeks with his fingertips, letting them trail down her neck and then her arm. His fingernails lightly brushed the thin flesh of her wrist just before he took his hand in hers. Her breath caught in her throat as a fire lit behind his eyes, making the dim copper tones of his iris glow a bright, burnished gold. That look commanded her to come back to him. That look was not to be disobeyed. She nodded mutely as her fingers intertwined with his. They squeezed each other's hand, as if it sealed some kind of compact between them. And then slowly – ever so slowly – their hands drifted apart. Palms slipping against each other as she pushed herself off the edge of the well, eyes locked on his as she fell and that old, blue magic surrounded her. Kagome closed her eyes and when the world came back, she stared at the bleak ceiling of the well house, hand to her heart while she wondered what she'd gotten herself into.

Her eyes narrowed contemplatively as she willed her heart to stop beating so fast. Things had just gotten more complicated...

* * *

Fundoshi: Japanese style undies.  
Juban: garment worn under a kosode, mostly to keep the kosode from getting dirty with sweat.  
Kosode: a type of kimono, mostly worn by men. 


	14. Concrete and Clay

_The concrete and the clay beneath my feet begin to crumble_

_But love will never die_

_You know, we'll see the mountains crumble_

_Before we say goodbye _

_My love and I will be in love eternally_

_That's the way_

_That's the way love's meant to be..._

_--They Might Be Giants_

Fingers trailed across a broad, pale back; nails digging into flesh followed by a sharp gasp of pleasure just as a calloused palm kneaded her breast. Hips lifted up to meet hips thrusting down, pressing in to penetrate harder, more deeply. Her legs splayed to let him in, toes curling as her body tensed in pulsing, almost painful anticipation. Pushing in ever so slowly, he paused mid-thrust, settling inside her to let his blood cool. Sighing shakily, pressed his face against the side of her head and breathed in deeply.

He tried to concentrate on something other than the woman underneath him, because he was so close, and she wasn't helping, squirming beneath him like she was. Unable to help himself, his tongue traced the shell of her ear lightly, causing them both to shiver. With another sigh, he drew in her earlobe. She moved underneath him, moaning as she felt the slight scraping of his teeth against her flesh. One last, lingering taste was enough before he let go, his tongue and teeth finding a more inviting home in southerly areas. He wondered dimly if she understood his rather unnatural obsession with her ears: her rounded and all too human ears.

_Like father like son_... _This was how the mighty fall, _he thought this just before he thrust into her, beginning their dance anew.

And she was a _lithe_ little dancer.

She was too fast, too warm, too eager and he wanted to make it last – he wanted to get enough of her but no matter how hard he tried, how much he stilled, she always stirred and was stirring... always at arm's length and when he pulled her in, like any good dance partner would, she would give him such _fire_.

Her fingers tightened around his biceps as she strained to retain feeling, to feel him, to move, to push herself, and maybe even him, over the edge. So she writhed until she could feel him, feel the friction inside herself as her back bowed, taking from him everything he'd give.

A growl, deep and sweet, brought her from the black and she looked up at him. His hair illuminated by the moonlight, the same effulgent shade as the stars – radiant and so very white. Eyes golden and fierce during daylight were muted by the night and turned a sleepy bronze that glowed with carefully restrained passion and like the cold calm sea, that passion roiled just beneath the surface of the water, waiting to be churned from the depths by a passing storm into great, licking waves.

If it were possible, she believed he was more beautiful this way.

She shuddered, her legs trembling weakly as she wrapped them around his hips. With what strength she had, she bucked against him. Sweat soaked skin against sweat soaked skin sliding against each other, bodies pressed so close that there was barely a whisper of air between them. All around them was heat and they were _desire_ made tangible. Their thrusts became urgent, almost frantic. They were fast and desperate, their bodies molding together as if they were truly attempting to become one as they chased that eternal goal that all lovers strive for.

She felt tears slide down her cheeks as she clenched around him, the tension in her body slowly releasing as she spasmed. Like a warm tide, her orgasm washed away her senses momentarily, her over-sensitized body driven delirious with pleasure. He came shortly afterwards, his breathing ragged as he stilled above her.

They stayed intertwined like that, joined at the hip for a very long time and even then their hearts still thundered in the aftermath. He pulled out of her and she shivered. Her thighs were covered in vaginal juices, cum and sweat; she was cold and wet, but not entirely dissatisfied with that fact. And the part of her that always felt guilty thinking that way was very small. Very, very small.

Because despite the fact that he'd finished, he hadn't moved away from her as he would have when they first began their little trysts well over six months ago. Instead, he stayed, nuzzling her, kissing her jaw lightly, breathing in the scent of her hair... and what was stranger than that, she reciprocated his small, almost affectionate gestures. She placed a lingering kiss on his throat, hands running along his back and arms restlessly. Laying back and looking at him, she stopped her wandering and began to smooth the fine hairs at his temple. She gently dug deeper, combing through his hair with a contented sigh. Pressing another kiss to his throat, she reveled in the very essence of him, using all her senses to imprint this moment with the myriad other significant moments in her life. Not that she could or would ever forget. The strings of fate between them had been tied together tightly, like the binding knots on a fisherman's line.

No matter how the sea raged, that knot would never loosen; never release them from the trap enclosing them.

Eventually, they separated. Time was master of itself, and it stopped for no one – no matter how long lived or powerful they might be.

He stood and watched her dress. A dark fire had lit his eyes, his face shadowed with smoldering emotion just barely held back. She often wondered where that fire came from. It was a recent thing, something she'd only noticed in the last few weeks. She didn't understand what that look meant but the fact that it showed was odd. At first, she'd thought that maybe it was her leaving – that maybe it was his way of saying that her departure was his favorite part of their nights together because it signaled a return to normalcy, even if it was only temporary. She had to admit that sometimes it was her favorite part. Other times, she could swear that he might_ actually_ resent her leaving, that, converse to her previous thought on the matter, he wanted her to stay or perhaps he just didn't want her to return to his brother.

Either way, the thought was powerfully seductive.

Kagome had tried not to succumb, because as tempting as the thought of being with him, _really _being with him, was, it was foolish of her to even think it. Even if he felt like she suspected he might, nothing would come of it. They both knew it.

She steeled her heart. Tried to go back to that bitter time before he'd seen to her pleasure but it was no use. At some point he had realized that pleasing her pleased him and so he sought to do it forever afterwards – not that she minded but it made it so much harder for her to ignore the pangs of her heart.

Unlike him, she was a feeling creature, entirely ruled by her emotions. She sometimes longed for his absolute control, his complete mastery of himself. Not realizing that oftentimes he was as lost and confused as she. He didn't understand what was between them any more than she did. In fact, the strange emotions surrounding their time together thoroughly infuriated and befuddled him, as they were firmly beyond his control... and there were very few things that were beyond his control. He just never showed his uncertainty.

Perhaps if he had...

_Perhaps..._

Then again, she hadn't been any more open than he, despite what she had felt, and she'd tried to deny it for the longest time...

She noticed that things had changed between them, drastically. He had begun to come for her more often, no longer content to have her merely once a week he came nearly every day, in one form or another. And he'd been gentle in all his dealings with her, be they carnal or otherwise. Then there were the small affectionate gestures he'd occasionally grace her with – the way he'd squeeze her hand just before he left, the small kisses he'd place on her neck, her face, her lips – it was strange and new and exhilarating. Stranger still, he stayed afterwards, walking her back to the well each and every time they met each other.

There were even a few times when he hadn't taken extra precaution and had almost caused them to be caught by Inuyasha, as if being with her distracted him somehow.

And then there was the night he'd come for her, and instead of taking her directly to their meadow, as he had before, he took her someplace else -- to a small, slow moving river with a set of tinkling rapids.

Over those rapids danced dozens of what she had taken for tiny fireflies. As they came closer, she realized her error. The motes of lights over the river weren't fireflies; they were spirits of some kind. Sesshoumaru had whispered to her that they were kodama that inhabited the cherry trees around this river. During certain nights in late summer, they would leave their trees and dance over the river for one last celebration of life before they were forced into dormancy for the winter.

The sight took her breath away as he moved in closer, so that they floated in the middle of their celebration. She was afraid at first, knowing how sensitive some spirits could be, especially when it came to humans. The kodama didn't seem to mind, though, capering about as if they weren't even there. Kagome smiled and held out her hand, allowing a stray kodama to flit across her opened palm. It tickled and she laughed.

The forest spirits mimicked the sound as best they could. It didn't sound much like her laugh at all, not that she minded. To her, it sounded like millions of tiny little bells chiming jubilantly while a host of softly played flutes underscored the melody.

Truly, it was one of the more beautiful things she'd ever experienced in her life. Her breath taken away, it was all she could do to smile and lay her head against her lover's chest, fingers absently playing with the collar of his kosode. He pulled her closer, maneuvering her so that her head rested in the crook of his neck.

She hadn't known what to think of the gesture at the time, other than to be exquisitely confused, wondering the entire time when the other shoe would drop. It never did. He simply held her and she held him while they watched the kodama flit through the trees like silent paper airplanes.

It marked the first time they'd been together fully clothed.

They'd stayed like that the whole night – not that she remembered much, she assumed that at some point she'd fallen asleep in his arms, because she had woken up the next morning in Kaede's hut, neatly wrapped in her own sleeping bag. How he accomplished this without waking anyone (especially Inuyasha, who should have sniffed him out, even if he hadn't noticed his presence) else up was beyond her.

He was a powerful daiyoukai, no doubt he had his ways and she chose not to question it, just as she chose not to examine why he'd shown her the kodama's grove. Sesshoumaru was ever inscrutable. She had accepted that she'd never be able to figure him out; besides, she kind of liked being surprised all the time.

From that night forward, their time together wasn't always spent naked and squirming. When he'd come for her, she never quite knew what it was he wanted – the sex or the company. Sometimes it was a bit of both, though more and more often, he'd take her to places just like the kodama grove.

In the intervening years, no matter how hard she'd tried to forget those moments, she never could. All she'd have to do was close her eyes and _see _-- the night they'd sat atop the trees and listened to the King of the Forest play his ocarina – the sunset they'd viewed just after a rain storm in the deep forest, hiding behind the underbrush as a kitsune wedding party marched by silently. They were amongst the happiest and saddest memories she had...

She'd never known why he'd done it. His actions suggested a sentimentality that was out of character, and yet... she'd always had the feeling that he seemed to like sharing the magical tranquility of such places with her.

Most times, they didn't talk, but sometimes, just sometimes, he would deign to explain to her what she was seeing – the significance of a certain tree or the kind of youkai that inhabited a particular river. She would listen raptly, occasionally asking a well thought out question, which he would actually answer without even a hint of condescension.

For the most part, however, he maintained the implacable facade of the Demon Lord of the West – cold, hard and immovable -- but every now and then, something would flicker beneath. It could be found in a small twitch at the corner of his mouth or the momentary softening of his eyes, but it was there and she saw it, no matter how hard she'd convinced herself in later years that she hadn't. During those quiet times with him, she observed a glimmer of a greater man, or demon as it were; one that loved deeply and could be loved in return.

Then there was the night he told her about Rin, how he'd found her and saved her. He hadn't said much, telling the story with a perfunctory bluntness, but beneath the taciturn tone of his speech she could hear the distant keening in his heart. That little girl had meant the world to him. Her loss had hurt him more than he would _ever_ admit. And it was that bit of secret knowledge that had been her downfall...

Yes, things had complicated themselves quite nicely. Just like a kitten with a new ball of yarn, she'd inexorably tangled herself up in his string, because she'd realized that even if he wasn't capable of it, she had feelings for him – it wasn't quite like love and yet it was. Somehow, being with him became more a need, rather than the previously cold, pitiless want. It was a realization that was as startling as it was subtle, like a flower blooming overnight; so wondrous and unexpected but truer than those three words human and youkai thought so important. Indeed, what she felt for him went beyond simple love, beyond rational explanation. And even though those three words seemed so inadequate, they were the only words she could use to describe it.

_I love him_...

A few weeks after that little revelation, the ultimate showdown with Naraku began and ended with an absurd kind of abruptness. And as he lay dying, coughing up ropes of thick, black blood, he delivered his parting shot, ending her delusional little play with a final, bitter soliloquy.

"You think you've won," he rasped, smiling and laughing, blood bubbling from between his lips. He looked at Inuyasha pointedly as he spoke. "You think you're quite the hero, don't you? Won the day, defeated your enemy... got the girl. But you don't _really have_ her, Inuyasha." There was an eruption of sound, where Inuyasha demanded to know what he meant, and everyone else told him not to listen, yet they all quieted when he spoke once more in a fierce but grating whisper. "Your _flower_ has been _plucked_, Inuyasha, and not by you..." Naraku's line of sight strayed to Kagome, an action which hadn't gone unnoticed.

"What—what do you mean by that?" Inuyasha murmured, knowing deep down what Naraku meant but not wanting to believe it. He shrugged off Sango, who had attempted to keep him from approaching the dark hanyou.

Naraku made an odd gurgling sound as he struggled for breath. He coughed up wads of near black blood, further spattering his face and the ground around him with gore. "Don't be so obtuse, Inuyasha," he wheezed, his blood stained lips curling into a cruel smile. "She's_ betrayed _you, just like Kikyo did, though I think Kikyo was far more merciful..." He chortled wetly. "At least s-she had the decency to kuh-k-kill you..."

Inuyasha snarled, his eyes briefly going red as he gripped the front of his enemy's tattered kosode. "ENOUGH GAMES! TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW!"

"The devil tempted her virtue and she, your not-so-virgin priestess, tempted heaven like a wanton harlot, allowing a snake to slither through her grass – behind your back, Inuyasha. Behind _your_ back. But you mustn't blame her, we both know that power is seductive, now don't we?" He paused, eyes glinting harshly in the mid-day sun. "Ah, frailty, thy name is woman." And Naraku just laughed, long and hard.

Before anyone could stop him, Inuyasha turned on Kagome, eyes wet and full of disbelief. "Tell me it's not true..." he whispered. Kagome couldn't say anything, her eyes were wide and still locked on Naraku, whose dark eyes glared back at her as he laughed and laughed and laughed. Inuyasha shook her and she looked up at him. Her skin was ashen, her body trembling. She couldn't look at him, and he knew then – he knew. He growled lowly, his fingers tightening around her upper arms, nails digging into flesh.

Kagome was too afraid to say anything, too mortified to even look up, and a part of her almost felt she deserved this pain. Then the world became a messy blur and she wept hard and heavy, tears dragging down her cheeks like lead.

"Why?" he murmured tearfully, the grip on her arms decreasing. "Why, Kagome, why?"

She had expected rage. She had expected him to hurt her, perhaps even lose control of himself as a result of it. But she had not expected his simple, anguished question. _Why?_ Why, indeed.

"It was the kindoku," Miroku interjected hesitantly, ignoring Sango's hand, which shot out and touched his arm in warning.

Inuyasha gasped, instantly letting go of Kagome. He knew of the poison, and the accompanying curse.

During all this, Naraku hadn't stopped laughing, the braying sound of it echoed through the clearing like a harsh and dissonant horn. "Yes, yes, it was the kindoku. The kindoku is to blame..." he growled, his voice thickly sibilant, like a man possessed. "Ah, how I wish I could claim the honor of your downfall, Inuyasha. Yes, the kindoku was a factor, but you see -- though I am _The Grand Architect_ of your misery, past and present, this time I didn't execute the plans myself, I merely drew in the right elements and allowed the castle to build itself."

"Who is it? Who did this?" Inuyasha commanded, ignoring Sango's vociferous protest.

A twisted, feral smile snaked across Naraku's face as he hissed: "Why don't you ask your _brother_."

Several things happened simultaneously.

Sango quickly jammed her sword through Naraku's chest, which caused his wild, phlegmatic laughter to cease almost immediately. Inuyasha turned to Sesshoumaru, who had long since turned his back to walk away; his retreat was met with a roar of absolute, unbelievable rage. Kagome, who was as white as a sheet, fell to her knees numbly, so shaken by what had happened that she'd gone nearly catatonic. Miroku caught her, looking around helplessly as the world tumbled into chaos. And Shippou, who understood the least of all present, wept along with Kagome, all the while begging her to come back as he intrinsically understood that only she could stop this madness.

The young priestess wasn't aware of much. She had heard Inuyasha bellow Sesshoumaru's name. He'd called him a bastard, and then – and then he and Kouga had attacked the daiyoukai; were attacking him still while Sango pleaded with them, with sword and Hiraikotsu, to stop this madness.

"Kagome-sama, are you all right?"

"Kagome-chan, you have to stop them."

Said at the same time, she wasn't sure who was speaking to her. She looked up, towards the clamoring dust cloud – the battlefield where Naraku lay dead and those who killed him now fought each other as most vicious enemies. Her ears tuned to the cries of battle. Where accusations were made that he'd planned this all with Naraku, where equal denials were made and the one sentence that would haunt her forever sang out like the world's most cruel harmony.

And as his younger brother shouted at him, asking why he had to take this one thing for him – _was he so jealous?_ – the elder brother answered with cold spite. "I won't fight you for a human woman, half breed. The girl was a means to an end. Take her if you like. She's outlived her usefulness to me."

Those words struck her heart, barreling through her chest like a cannonball through the thick, wooden planks of a ship, obliterating what should have been so strong and solid into a mass of matted splinters and debris. Kagome grabbed her chest, and whether it was to keep her heart from shattering or wishing it to stop, not even she knew. She could faintly hear Shippou crying and Miroku mumbling apologies, but most of the world was silent and gray.

All this time, and she'd been nothing but a tool to him. Truly, he'd felt nothing, even though she thought... and she had... she'd loved him. She loved him. _And he_... unable to even bear thinking the words, she clutched her clothing to her and shuddered. The shock was too much for her tired body and she fainted dead away.

Across the field, unnoticed by all, another priestess walked. She stopped to gaze with ill concealed disdain at the dark hanyou's remains, which were beginning to steam a bit as the now pure Shikon melted away his tainted body. Without even thinking about it, she reached into the pile of guts to pull the jewel out, regarding it curiously before wiping it off on her pants. Once cleaned, her dark eyes locked on to her reincarnation. Her fist tightened over the jewel momentarily as she approached.

The monk held her reincarnation a bit closer, while the little fox demon rose to stand just in front of her. This girl, this Kagome, seemed to instill such loyalty in those whose hearts she'd touched. Pity she'd given that heart out so freely – _Really, we are quite alike, aren't we, Kagome?_

"Monk, help the Slayer," she ordered smoothly.

At first, he was reluctant, but once his attention was drawn to Sango, he could see she needed assistance, yet he hesitated. This priestess was hardly trustworthy.

"Go to her, I'll take care of Kagome." He hardened his resolve, the hand with his Shakujo moving protectively in front of Kagome, as if to shield her. "The jewel is whole again. Naraku is dead, and my vengeance is complete. I won't harm her..." He still didn't leave. She sighed. "She's me and I'm her..." She smiled sadly, her eyes softening for the first time in her un-life.

The Monk nodded and dashed away, but not before transferring Kagome to Kikyou's care.

"Little fox demon, is your sense of smell sharp?"

Shippou nodded slowly, wary of what the priestess might want of him.

"Deep in the forest behind, you will find a hot spring with deep, red water. It'll smell quite strongly, so it'll be easy to find – but be careful not to breathe too deeply, the fumes are noxious. Collect the crystals at the water's edge and bring them to me."

Shippou, like Miroku, wasn't sure if he ought to do as told. He didn't want to leave Kagome alone with Kikyou, knowing their history, and yet he felt compelled to leave at the same time. It was well known that there was a kind of crystal that came from a hot spring that had a powerful smell; powerful enough, it was said, to wake the dead. Shippou's own father had told him that mortal daimyo kept a proliferation of the substance on hand in order to wake their women, who fainted often.

The kit had to think for only a second or two before dashing into the woods to find the hot spring. Several minutes later, he staggered from the wood with a small amount of crystals held tightly in his shaking fist. It had been hard for the kit to collect them, he'd nearly passed out from the smell – it really _was_ quite strong. He handed the milky white crystals to Kikyou, falling on hard on his backside as he watched the priestess's every move, looking for any indication that she intended to hurt Kagome.

The priestess rolled the minerals in her hand, gazing at them contemplatively for a moment or two. "Kit, bring me two stones and a leaf."

Shippou did as he was told once more – procuring the largest stones he could find and volunteering one of his own leaves for Kikyou's use. The priestess carefully placed the crystals on one stone, using the other to grind them into a fine powder, which she swept onto the leaf. She carefully folded it so that it formed a crude container. Adjusting her charge's head, she held the open end of the leaf under Kagome's nose. The young girl jerked, her eyes fluttering wildly as she was brought back to consciousness. Registering who held her, she halfheartedly hoped Kikyou was here to take her soul; she wasn't so sure she wanted it anymore.

Setting down the leaf container, Kikyou gave her a wan smile. "It seems my soul will never escape my one mistake."

Kagome looked away, eyes full of tears as she struggled for breath. She didn't want to hear what Kikyou had to say, even if there was no malicious intent, the words still stung like hell.

"Do you know what my mistake was, Kagome?" Kikyou asked, holding the Shikon and her reincarnation tightly. "I didn't trust in the love I had for Inuyasha, I thought I did – but there was always a question in my heart because I never knew my place in his."

Kagome nodded numbly, sitting up and dusting herself off hastily in a halfhearted attempt to pull herself together. Kikyou's words were grim but true. Her lip trembled at this, and though she had tried to stop crying, the tears still fell – they came so fiercely that she nearly choked on it.

"I didn't—I didn't mean to huh-h-h-hurt anyone," she wheezed, words coming out between stolen breaths.

The elder priestess's mouth was drawn into a tight line as she pet Kagome's hair. Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly as she fought her own tears. "I know. I know you didn't."

Kikyou looked away, staring out at the battle that still raged around them. She watched Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha fight, dancing around each other in a twirling mass of red and white. Nudging Kagome gently, she drew her gaze away from her navel and towards the battle before them. She pointed and whispered: "They don't understand, Kagome. Even hanyou like Inuyasha -- with their half-human blood -- don't _feel_ the way we do. They're selfish. It's their nature, just as it is our nature to give ourselves over to our emotions."

Kagome didn't have anything to say -- unable to negate or affirm the notion in her own head, much less outside it -- she remained tearfully silent; dark eyes trained on the one she loved as he fought like a brilliant, spinning beacon; she couldn't take her eyes off of him. Kikyou noted this, and was surprised. She had thought her reincarnation was brokenhearted over the hanyou, she had always seen this eventuality in the girl's future. However, it was clear that it wasn't the hanyou she was heartbroken over... though she supposed, in a way, she must have been. Their relationship would be ever changed because of her feelings for the older brother.

Kikyou had no desire to know how the girl had entangled herself with Sesshoumaru. Human-loving daiyoukai, like the Great Inu no Taisho, were an anomaly. His eldest son had always exemplified the true nature of greater youkai; who were, as a rule, all ruthless, cold beings that only sought for power and cared little for the lives of others, especially humans. She had killed a great many daiyoukai in her time, and had not once regretted it. And if she had the power now that she had in her first life, Kikyou would have killed Sesshoumaru in revenge for corrupting her reincarnation; the beast deserved no less.

But what she had told the monk was true -- she had let go of all her hate, and hence had lost any power the stolen fragment of Kagome's soul had given her. Even the power to purify the Shikon was beyond her.

Truly, Kagome would be the one to decide the jewel's fate.

She could not give the girl the comfort she needed, nor could she seek vengeance on her behalf -- there was nothing left but her final duty to the jewel. Kikyou gently helped her reincarnation to sit up, wiped away the tears and the dirt, and smoothed her mussed hair. After a moment of quiet contemplation while she waited for Kagome to regain her composure, Kikyou carefully pressed the jewel into her palm.

"Protect it, Kagome. And should wish on it; choose more wisely than I..."

Kagome clutched the completed jewel to her chest, eyes blinded by tears that had yet to fall. She watched the woman she was reincarnated from drift away like a lonely ghost and she wondered what Kikyou would do now that vengeance no longer moved her.

Would she continue on as she was or would she simply disappear?

Licking her lips, Kagome gazed down at the completed Shikon no Tama. It glittered in the sun, glowing with its own internal light – winking at her from its place in her palm.

"What will _you _do, Kagome," it asked, "will you fade away or will you remain?"

In that specific moment, everything had seemed so clear. She curled her fingers over the jewel, holding it tightly in her closed fist. She was unaware of how tightly she was holding it... unaware of the biting pain in her palms as her fingernails dug into her flesh. Small rivulets of blood circled lazily around her wrist as she stood up and took in the world around her.

Brother against brother, they had abandoned the tenuous pretense of fraternal loyalty they'd built over the last few years. The wolf prince had been taken out of the fight entirely; having been thrown through several trees, he was struggling with consciousness. He lay on the sidelines, wounded and semi-delirious. His pack-mates tried their best to tend to him, eyeing the still fighting brothers warily.

The demon slayer, who'd tried so hard to stop the fighting, lay completely unconscious and unmoving not far from the wolf prince. Her pale face was marred by a nasty cut on her forehead, which was bleeding languidly. The monk held her, tearing off one of his long sleeves to wipe the dirt and gore from her face, looking up long enough to regard the ultimate display of sibling rivalry with disgust.

At first, they'd used their swords to pummel each other. Tessaiga versus Tokijin. The hanyou had quickly realized that his brother's damnable sword, Tenseiga, would protect the bastard's life. And he was so focused on the battle that he didn't quite realize his brother's sword was missing. The hanyou's only thought was that Tessaiga was useless against him.

If he wanted the sonvabitch dead, he'd have to use his own two hands.

He had no problem with that.

So, the hanyou sheathed his sword. It'd be too honorable to kill him with his father's fang. The meaning behind the action wasn't lost on the young demon lord, and it incensed him.

"Giving up so easily, hanyou?" he sneered callously.

"You wish," the half-breed spat back as he launched from the ground, barely dodging his brother's sword.

The blade swung through the air, singing as it went, while the hanyou tried to find an opening, any weakness in his brother's defense.

"Your desperation is pathetic, Inuyasha. To think you could defeat me without our father's sword... as if your hanyou strength means anything."

The younger brother snarled, his fist swinging out, and, amazingly, it connected with the demon lord's face. Stunned, Sesshoumaru slid back; staring at his brother in silent disbelief as the hanyou surged forward to attack again, managing to land several punches and kicks before being thrown backward. His bare feet scraped the ground until he stopped – his eyes glaring at his brother from beneath his bangs. Inuyasha let out a small bark of laughter, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "Keh, as if I'd dirty _my_ blade with your blood," he said, putting proprietary emphasis on the word 'my' as his eyes glinted maliciously, "you're beneath me, Sesshoumaru."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the temperature dropped abruptly and an electric tremor ran through the air, charging it with unseen power. The wind whistled through the trees, become steadily stronger. Leaves were torn off, branches broken, and dirt was kicked up as the wind became a howling din of sound and fury. And then, it just stopped. There was a booming crack – like the sound of gunshot going off – as Sesshoumaru shot forward, his eyes briefly flashing red as he launched himself at his brother. Inuyasha met him in the middle. And the clearing seemed to erupt as their youki met, pushing against each other like opposing magnetic fields.

Kagome watched this and she wanted to weep, but by will alone she held those tears at bay. She'd drowned her sorrows long enough. Now, she had to be strong, because looking around her, all she could see was her weakness. She had brought the Shikon no Tama to this era. She'd broken it. She'd invited the daiyoukai into the village. She'd healed him. And she... and she... but it would all end now. Kagome took one last look. Brothers fought. One lover cradled the other. Friends lay wounded and in pain. And here she was, mostly unscathed, having lost nothing when compared to all that those gathered before her.

A lover.

A friend.

A brother.

A family.

A soul.

A home.

A future.

All of them had lost so much, and all because of her, but only she had the ability to make it all right. She knew she couldn't wipe away the past, couldn't take back any of the hurt they'd endured. But she could give them an end – one happier than the last.

She called out to Kikyou's rapidly retreating form. The former-priestess turned from her place at the edge of the forest, looking at her reincarnation quizzically. Eyes glittering and alive, she smiled and mouthed two words: "Thank you."

At first, Kikyou had no idea what possessed her reincarnation to thank her. She'd done nothing to deserve any kind of gratitude. Even as she thought that, she realized the horrifying truth of those words and what Kagome meant to do. Her eyes widened and she sprinted forward, hand outstretched, she screamed, "KAGOME, NO!"

Every head turned, the fight stopped and all eyes were on Kagome. Tears flooded her face as she smiled serenely, looking into each face before she closed her eyes and whispered, "_I wish._.."

Time bent, curling in on itself like a burning leaf; it dragged her along behind, and she was left breathless in its current. It felt as if someone had pulled on her spine – like it was some kind of absurd child's toy or perhaps one of those little champagne crackers sold during New Years. Dreamily, she mused as she traveled through the blue and she wondered if she really was a champagne cracker and perhaps some happy divine partygoer was attempting to pull her string, waiting patiently for streamers and confetti to pop out of her head, it certainly felt like it might. Time shuddered and the back of her head exploded in agony. Her vision went white, then black, and then she lost consciousness, overwhelmed by the light in the time stream...

She awoke suddenly, gasping shrilly as the real world and all its sights, sounds and smells came back to her. She was lying on her back. Looking up blearily at the ceiling high above her, she found that moving wasn't something the rest of her body wanted to do right now. Groaning, she just barely managed to turn her head. Her hand came into view – fingers twitched and she half expected to see a small ant crawling up her wrist but that was six years ago. She'd woken up in the well, feeling just like this. Her hand covered in blood and aching all over, eyes puffy and swollen from tears. She'd just lied there, watching an ant crawling up her arm to her wrist and onto her palm, where it proceeded to ascend to the tip of her ring finger, descending on the other side like the world's tiniest mountain climber.

Six years had passed since then, six long years. This wasn't then, and she wasn't in the well, she was in... _the museum_.

It took longer than she liked, but she willed her limbs to move, sitting up after much grunting and complaining. Standing came next, once her legs had stopped shaking.

_What the hell had_—

The thought was left truncated as she screeched in pain. It felt like someone had pushed a white hot iron into her chest. Panicked, she pulled at the necklace around her neck, the source of her agony. Finding the clasp, she shakily unclipped it, instantly dropping the necklace to the ground. Kagome took a second or two to assess the damage. The necklace had hung to just above her breast, she rubbed the skin, which had turned an angry red. It stung. She could only hope the damned thing didn't blister; she'd hate to have to add yet another scar to her already overabundant collection.

"Gonna hafta put some aloe on that," she murmured to herself distantly, looking down at the necklace she'd dropped to the floor.

The Shikon no Tama glowed bright as a star, illuminating the dim museum interior, casting haunting, unearthly shadows over the dusty exhibits surrounding her. Her breath was pushed out of her by sheer shock and she shakily tried to reclaim it, her chest heaving rapidly as she drew air in and out. It glowed as brightly as the day she'd wished on it. She could feel its power, loud and demanding, hammering against every cell in her being. All these years it had been quiet, sleeping, but it was clear to her now that it was very much awake, and it scared the shit out of her.

Pulling off the scarf from around her neck, she picked the thing up and regarded it thoughtfully for a moment, before stuffing it into her pocket. Something was going on here as she gazed at the case that still held Tokijin. Yes, something was going on. Someone had found a way to activate the Shikon, someone who knew about her past –_intimately._

For a fraction of a second, she thought that maybe it was Sesshoumaru. Perhaps he thought to draw her out and rectify the mistakes of his past by _correcting_ his one moment of weakness. That thought was quickly pushed aside. For him, it'd been five hundred years. No doubt he'd forgotten all about her in favor of building his empire. She was insignificant to him; besides which, he'd never had any desire for the jewel to begin with. He'd gain nothing by its reactivation.

No, someone else was behind this, though she couldn't imagine who...

A tug on her dress drew her away from dark thoughts and she looked down, unconsciously clasping the still warm jewel wrapped tightly in her scarf. Large golden eyes gazed back at her with limitless curiosity. Kagome sighed, released the jewel, now perfectly cool, leaving it to rest in her pocket. Without even thinking about it, she placed her hand on top of the young child's head, fingers smoothing errant strands of white blonde hair that had escaped the ties that tried to futilely hold it back.

Kagome smiled – and it was so bittersweet.

The child could sense her sadness as if preternaturally attuned to it somehow. Her smile changed in response, becoming more reassuring, less sorrowful. This was why she worried – why the pain of six years ago seemed like nothing to her some days, and everything in the days in between, because this child, _her _child, wouldn't be here if she hadn't made that one dreadful mistake, and for that she had been gifted with all the joy in the world.

She had been given a daughter, who was beautiful and perfect, but also a daily, sad reminder of the father that never loved her mother. Sometimes it hurt to look at her, and sometimes it was all she could do not to just stare into her eyes – thinking about the girl's father, wondering where he was and if he'd care that he had a daughter. Kagome knew his feelings on hanyou, knew his feelings about her... but this was his child as much as it was hers.

Sometimes, she thought about finding him. She had the resources, but something always stopped her. Kagome knew what it was: she was afraid to face him and even more afraid of what his cold indifference would do to her daughter. She remembered very well the cruel things he'd said to his own brother – the cruel things he'd said to her, about her -- and she didn't have to guess that he'd gift the same kind of viciousness upon his daughter. That – she'd never allow.

The moment she found out she was pregnant she'd vowed not to be the weak wilting flower any longer. She wouldn't be like Izayoi or Shiori's mother, allowing their children to be broken by a world that reviled them. No, she'd be like Jinenji's mother, a fierce protectress – a champion for her daughter. Her daughter would know that she was loved, and she'd be damned if she left anyone harm her, physically or mentally. She wouldn't allow her to live her life like Inuyasha had – alone and afraid inside, hard and impenetrable on the outside, so hard that no one could find their way in. Her daughter would grow up happy and healthy, and no one would take that from her, _no one_.

The little girl, tired of watching her mom think, grunted impatiently and held up her arms. "Up," she demanded simply, her hands opening and closing when her mother didn't move quite as fast as she would have liked.

"You forgot the magic word," chided her mother.

The little girl pouted a little. "Please."

"That's my girl." And without another word, Kagome gathered the girl up into her arms, closing her eyes and holding her tighter when she felt the girl bury her face into her shoulder despite the shudder of pain it caused.

The little girl pulled back, her lips turning up shyly. She held up a finger and tapped her mother's nose, whispering quietly, "you're the oni now."

"Am I?"

"Mmmhmm." She nodded sagely, looking very serious for a five year old girl. Adding quickly, "no tag backs," just in case her mother thought about cheating. Grown ups always cheated at kid's games...

The little hanyou tipped her head, nose snuffling. A look of confusion crossed her face as her gaze turned towards her mother's chest.

"You're hurt." The girl's small hand hovered just above the reddened welt caused by the Shikon. Her mother quickly guided her hand away.

"It's nothing... I burned myself this morning with the curling iron." The little girl frowned, her expression conveying her doubt. "Don't worry about it... I'll be fine."

"You want me to kiss it better?"

Kagome could only laugh, shifting the young girl's weight so that it was more comfortable. "Uh, no—" she began; stopping abruptly at the crestfallen look her daughter was giving her. "Mommy's owie still hurts a bit, how 'bout you give me a kiss on my cheek instead?" This seemed to appease the child. She kissed her mother on the cheek.

"All better now?"

"All better," her mother agreed. The little girl beamed triumphantly in response. "So, how'd you find me?"

"Used my nose -- just like Uncle Shippou showed me."

"Uncle Shippou is going to be _so _proud... you gonna tell him when you get home?" The question was rhetorical, but her daughter was far too young to understand that. She nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin spreading across her face, made broader when her mother started to tickle her. The little girl giggled and squirmed until her mother stopped, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Looking at her for a long moment, Kagome again reflected on how utterly beautiful her daughter was. Carefully straightening out the little girl's bangs, she sighed and said: "How 'bout we use that nose of yours to find Grandma, what d'ya say?"

Her daughter's eyes brightened as she was let down. She immediately grabbed her mother's hand and led her away from the dark hall that held Tokijin. After a short five minute walk, they found Kagome's mother, who was conversing with a young man near an exhibit of Tang Dynasty era pottery. They seemed to be deep in conversation, and Kagome hated to interrupt them. Luckily, her daughter didn't seem to have the same reservations.

The little hanyou gaily skipped up to her grandmother, and, without any hesitation at all, tugged on her skirt until the older woman looked down. She pointed excitedly towards where Kagome stood. She could just read her daughter's lips as they mouthed, "I found her". Kagome's mother looked up and smiled warmly. She politely excused herself from the young man's company and walked towards her daughter. Kagome strode forward to meet her.

"I see she found you," her mother remarked, looking over at the little hanyou, who hadn't joined them. Instead, she'd hung back, gazing up at the young man her mother had been talking with curiously.

"Yeah, she has her father's knack for sniffing things out..." Kagome commented wistfully.

"Or perhaps she takes after her mother – finding lost things," the deep, unfamiliar voice of a stranger spoke to her.

Her eyes immediately landed on the only man in the vicinity. She thought for a moment before answering slowly, gazing at him warily: "Perhaps."

Kagome regarded the young man, who her daughter had dragged over to them. He was young, perhaps a bit older than herself, and unusually tall for a Japanese native; if she were to guess, he had to be about six foot tall. His hair was disheveled, as if it had been a very long time since it and a comb were acquainted. There was a fine sheen of oil across his skin, especially around his face, which he wiped away with a kerchief he'd taken from his pocket. With that same kerchief, he cleaned the thin, wire rimmed glasses he wore. Unconsciously, her lip curled ever so slightly in disgust.

He wore a baggy tweed jacket with patches on the elbows and a pair of dark brown chinos that had seen better days, and his white cotton shirt looked un-pressed. It hung loosely off his frame, as all his clothes seemed to. His rumpled chic was accentuated by a loosened necktie that hung limply from underneath the collar.

He very much looked the part of an absent-minded professor, and that was the problem.

Something was off about him. He was _too_ bland. Everything about him was generic, his face, his clothes, his manner of speech – so slow and deliberate, tinged with nervous social anxiety – it was like he was trying very hard NOT to stand out, like he was _trying_ to blend in. She didn't know exactly how to explain it, but she supposed it was the difference between playing a part and just being. He wasn't just _being_ a professor – she'd met plenty like him, who were awkward and on edge in front of others – no, he was playing a part. All of this was just for show, so that you wouldn't suspect anything, so that you'd trust him because he seemed just perfectly plain and harmless.

_If this man's a professor, I'll eat my scarf_...

If he was a demon, and she was sure he was, he'd have to have some kind of concealing or cloaking spell on him, because she couldn't sense any youki. She looked him over casually and she didn't find anything out of the ordinary. All spells of transformation usually required something to physically anchor them: like a piece of jewelry or a tattoo of some sort. She didn't see any jewelry or any tattoos, though she supposed he could be hiding them underneath his clothing.

Narrowing her eyes, she concentrated. Even the cleverest concealing spell had its weakness, they were never perfect and something always slipped through, always. Usually in the area the spell was attached to. It took a second or two, but she saw it. The spell flickered briefly around his right hand and just for a moment she could see his hand as it really was, claws and all. _Gotcha. _She hadn't enough power to do much more than that, but it was enough that she had confirmation of what he really was.

Her mother seemed to come out of a stupor, realizing she'd neglected to introduce her daughter to the young professor. "OH! Forgive my rudeness! Professor Saito this is my daughter—"

"Higurashi Kagome," she interrupted with a slight smile, bowing low. "It's nice to finally meet you in person, Saito-sensei."

"Ah, Miss Higurashi... I had wondered if you were related."

"You know each other?" her mother questioned, looking quite befuddled.

"Yes, sort of, he was the man I came here to see," Kagome said, smiling demurely as she glanced at her mother briefly, trying to signal her with her eyes.

"Oh, the one interested in the Shikon no Tama. Then you two have much to discuss." Her mother bowed out politely, carefully pulling her grand-daughter away from the young man. Clearly, her mother got the message.

"You needn't leave, Mrs. Higurashi. The middle of my museum is hardly the place to be discussing such important matters." He turned back to Kagome, just the tip of his lips turned up with as he gazed at her. "I apologize for missing our appointment, Miss Higurashi. Something urgent came up and I was unfortunately detained. I was returning to the museum hoping to catch you when I met your mother..."

"Apologies are unnecessary, Saito-sensei. I'm sure it was important."

"Yes," he confessed, pantomiming nervousness. "Allow me to walk you out."

There was no way for her to turn his offer down politely. She'd have to be out and out rude, and she wasn't quite ready to reveal herself yet, hoping to string him long enough to learn who he really was and what he wanted.

_Damn_.

She looked back at her mother, who'd gone a bit pale. Kagome had tried her hardest to keep her family life and her business life separate. Her mother had offered to come and meet her after her meeting for a pleasant girl's day out with her daughter and grand-daughter. She had not planned on meeting a youkai seeking the sacred jewel. Kagome's eyes hardened and she gave her mother a reassuring smile, letting her know she'd take care of it.

Pivoting back, she looked Mr. Saito in the eye and bowed politely. "Saito-sensei, your gesture is truly appreciated but..."

"I insist."

"But I'd hate to be a both—"

"I assure you, Miss Higurashi, it would be my pleasure. Shall we?" he asked, gesturing forward with artificially gawky gentility.

She forced a smile and nodded her acceptance, not trusting her words to speak for her.

Her mother gave her a worried look before taking her grand-daughter's hand to begin the long walk back to the museum entrance. Mr. Saito and Kagome followed just behind, far enough away to have a quiet conversation without their companion's notice if they so wished. But there was no conversation, instead, there was a terse silence punctuated by their footsteps as they echoed through the hallway.

Without really thinking about it, she put her hand in her pocket and held onto the Shikon tightly. Her mind was going a mile a minute. This situation had gone all wrong, and everything was out of her control. She was left to wait for him to make his next move, and so her mind began to conjure up different scenarios and how she might handle whatever it was he'd throw at her. The one contingency she didn't plan on was for him to simply talk to her.

"You have a lovely daughter."

"Thanks," she replied automatically, unnerved by his sudden attention.

She looked over at her daughter, who had turned around and smiled brightly at Mr. Saito. She gave a little wave and whispered a hello before she quickly turned around at the stony look her mother was giving her.

_Strange_, she thought. Her daughter had never reacted very well to strangers, especially men. It had taken only one disastrous date with Hojo for her to realize this. Her poor daughter had wailed like a vengeful onryō when he tried to pick her up, and when he wouldn't put her down, she'd put her little claws to use on his face. From that day forward, she'd always seen to it that new people were introduced to her slowly, and it always took a couple of visits before she'd warm up to anyone.

"Your husband must be very proud."

She answered with distracted honesty, not thinking before she spoke. "I don't have a husband."

"Oh," he gasped in surprise. After considering his words, he asked, "Did he pass away?"

Kagome snorted, mumbling under her breath, "probably not."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing – no, her father isn't dead." _Or at least I don't think he is_... "Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but is there a point to all these questions?"

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's just... I was curious. That's all."

"Curious?" she challenged.

"Yes," he replied, clearly discomfited by something. It was the first genuine emotion she'd seen on him in the short time she'd been in his company. He looked at her, an odd light entering into his dark brown eyes. "You're a fascinating woman, Miss Higurashi."

The way he was looking at her made her uncomfortable. She'd seen that look before on the face of a youkai. That was the look they gave just before they pounced. Fingers tightening over the Shikon, she looked away. "Not really, Saito-sensei. I'm actually quite boring."

Kagome could see the museum's entrance just in front of her. Her heart beat a little faster.

"Is that so?" he asked.

"Yes, it is."

"I highly doubt that."

He opened the door for her. Seconds passed with terrifying speed as she moved in front of him, her back to him as he closed the door behind her. In front of her were the steps and freedom. Her mother waited at the end of the stairs, holding onto her grand-daughter tightly and looking up at Kagome with a mixture of worry and fear. All the while, she could feel the youkai's eyes on her. She looked her mother in the eyes and willed her to leave. If something were to happen, she didn't want her mother or her daughter in the middle of it. They'd only distract her.

She looked over at the youkai, and he looked back, his hand causally stuffed into a pocket. The 'aw-shucks' professor routine had disappeared, and in its place was cool, arrogant authority. His hair looked slightly less mussed, his skin was smoother, and the rough lines in his face were gone as the true beauty of his race struggled to surface. She wondered if he even knew what he was doing, wondered if he knew she could see – that she'd know the difference – she could feel just a bit of his youki as it leaked out. It was flaring so powerfully the spell was having a hard time hiding its presence.

She tensed in preparation...

"Have dinner with me." The tone of his voice was frighteningly commanding.

"What?!" she exclaimed incredulously. Of all the things he could say and do, she hadn't expected _that_.

He pinned her down with his eyes, which had mysteriously lightened – no longer were they a dull, dark brown, but a vibrant hazel. "I said, have dinner with me," he repeated.

"Mr. Saito, I'm flattered but I don't mix business with pleas—"

His eyes seemed to twinkle as if he doubted her words, but was too polite to say otherwise. He interrupted her smoothly, "This _is_ business, as we would, of course, discuss the Shikon over dinner."

Kagome was flabbergasted into silence. Did youkai persistence know no bounds? Recovering herself, she thought a moment before she spoke. "I see you won't take no for an answer, then?" He nodded ever so slightly in response. "Then I'd be happy to. What day is good for you?"

They haggled for awhile, comparing schedules until they came up with an acceptable time both could manage. Two weeks from now, on a Thursday. Snapping her planner shut, she smiled at the youkai with faux-warmth.

"How 'bout you come over to the shrine? I'll cook for you... and you could take a look around. I could even bring out some of the scrolls you asked about, if you'd like."

"That sounds agreeable. Until then, Miss Higurashi."

"Until then," she said, holding out her right hand to seal the deal.

Kagome's sharp eyes turned to his hand as he accepted her gesture. The illusion flickered, and she could see the small tattoo on the flesh between his thumb and forefinger that was the source of his concealing spell. It was a crudely drawn leaf – a common leitmotif she'd seen in spells designed by kistune. But this style, she'd never seen it before. The mark was simple, but damnedably effective, as if the maker of the spell had been experimenting – perhaps it was even his or her first attempt – and it had gone well, not because they'd planned it that way, but merely by lucky accident. She clasped his hand and turned it, looking up at him with a smile that was all sweet innocence. He seemed startled for a moment.

"Nice tattoo," she remarked.

He relaxed almost visibly. "Thank you... I got it when I was young."

She could sense regret in his voice. _Odd_. The way he said that brought up thoughts of her own mistakes. Looking out into the rapidly fading sunset pensively, she pursed her lips. "Well, I think we've all done things in our youth that we regret later on..."

She looked over at him for a moment, the sun turning everything around them a bright, burning orange. His eyes met hers, and there was a fierceness in them that there wasn't before. "That we do, Miss Higurashi. That we do."

Looking at him, it felt as if she'd been punched in the chest. "Well, then... good evening, Saito-sensei. See you in two weeks."

"I'm looking forward to it. Have a good evening as well, and be careful, Miss Higurashi."

She nearly ran towards the train station where she knew her mother was waiting. Whoever or whatever Satoru Saito was, he was powerful. More powerful than any youkai she'd faced before then – and it terrified her bone-deep. She'd have to plan carefully...

Through the crowds of evening commuters, she could see her mother craning her head, looking for her. And when they finally made their way to each other, she gave her daughter the biggest bear-hug in the world.

"I thought for sure you weren't coming back, it took so long..."

"Phhhffftt, take more than a skinny youkai in professor's clothing to put me out of action," she answered with false-bravado, echoes of her hanyou best friend in her voice.

"Mama!" her daughter exclaimed from her mother's shoulder, holding out her hands insistently.

Kagome took her daughter from her mother's arms. The little girl wrapped herself around her mother, head lolling sleepily. Looking up from the shoulder she'd rested her head against, she smiled tiredly and closed her eyes. They got on the train.

Another passenger made room for Kagome to sit. And as she tried to get comfortable in yet another hard, plastic seat, her daughter murmured to her softly. At first, she found it hard to pick up what she was saying. Intent on ignoring it as it was most likely just the babble of a very tired child; she was surprised when the girl sat up a little.

Looking straight into her mother's eyes, her lids opening and closing languidly, she said, "Momma, are you gonna see that man from the museum again?"

"Yes, why?"

"I like him."

Kagome's eyebrows reached into her hair. She was beyond surprised, she was downright shocked. "Oh, really?"

The little girl nodded, her head softly hitting her mother's shoulder as she whispered: "He smells like home..."


	15. A Self Called Nowhere

_The vanishing dot  
On the map of the spot  
Let me take you there  
The dotted line  
Surrounding the mind  
Of a self called nowhere  
It's a thing named it  
In a bottomless pit  
You cant see it there  
The sunken head  
That lies in the bed  
Of a self called..._

_--They Might Be Giants_

Six years ago, Higurashi Kagome had fallen down a well and out of a fairytale that had long ago lost all its magic. Being transported from one world to another in a swift leap she barely remembered, Kagome had turned her eyes away from the ant she had watched for over a quarter of an hour and stared at the well-house's ceiling instead. There was a mixture of pain and relief that she'd somehow been returned to her time.

Back then, as now, she tried – tried so very hard – to remember how she'd gotten to the well, much less down it. The last thing she remembered was wishing on the jewel, and then everything... everything had gone dark and misty, and she'd woken up in her own time...

And at the time, she felt like she'd slept a thousand years, and as time passed, she could fairly say that she was still very tired – very, very tired.

Kagome had realized, resting down there in that well, what her essential mistake had been. It had taken her a little while (over a quarter of an hour of ant-watching, actually) to understand where she'd gone wrong. She had made the classic mistake all young women make at some point in their lives: she had mistaken lust for love. How silly of her. At this realization, she supposed most girls might start to bawl or scream, but for Kagome there was no outward hysterical display of loss. There was nothing in her, nothing at all but resigned acceptance. Oh, there were tears, but they were slow and silent, trailing down from the corners of her eyes to the ground without even a whisper of sound. It made her skin itch and she had listlessly wiped them away before sitting up and dusting herself off.

And as she climbed from the well, those tears had dried. After all, what good would it do to mourn for what she never had in the first place? All she would gain would be a stuffy nose and puffy eyes, and she'd really lost enough as it was... pride was really all she had left. And in between the short walk from the shrine to her home, she had resolved to forget everything that happened in the feudal era, as much as she could, anyway. A vow she hadn't broken consciously for six years.

Her life was here, in the modern age. She belonged here, after all; the sprawling cityscapes of modern day Tokyo suited her far better than the rural charm of feudal era Edo. But it all seemed so cold; no stars at night. No crickets chirping, just the sounds of all the people and the blaring horns of cars at rush hour. Not to mention the loss of so many good friends. She thought about them more often than she'd like to admit, and she'd regret having left them with such painful abruptness. The guilt had been nearly crippling for those first few weeks.

And sometimes, in the wee hours of the night, she'd confess to herself that she missed her time back then but when the sun would rise she'd forget all that and remember her struggle to find her place in this time.

Six years ago, she had just barely managed to graduate high school and had been a ronin for two straight years. In those final days and weeks, she'd been too caught up in the frantic search for shards, not to mention her pointless little trysts with Sesshoumaru to think about her future _in_ the future. Now, after having been dumped unceremoniously back in her time, she had a lot of work to do. But she was up to it and she worked fast. Somehow, she had managed to salvage her education, easily slipping into the life that had been interrupted by that fall into her family's shrine well-house. Best of all, she played the part of who she used to be so well that nearly no one noticed.

Nearly.

Her mother noticed, because somehow, someway, no one can really fool their mother. They know. They always know. And Ayumi -- of their group, she had always been considered a bit of a flake and a ditz – a smart ditz, but a ditz none-the-less, yet, she was the most perceptive of all of them. Perhaps even more perceptive than Kagome's own mother, because she sensed that there was something missing in Kagome. Something that was as missing six years ago as it was today. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it might be, but she knew it was vital – it was important, but like Kagome's mother, she had no idea how to help her friend. It was as if Kagome was in some kind of protracted mourning, one that never ceased because she'd never really begun it in the first place, and until she did, there was nothing either of them could do for her.

It was January, three months after she'd come home and Kagome had been accepted into Kokugakuin University by sheer force of will alone – she also studied so hard her eyeballs almost fell out. Kokugakuin University was known for its study of traditional Japanese culture and history, and it seemed odd, at first, that she'd want to study the era she swore to forget. But she had liked her classes and she did well – she had chosen Japanese Literature as her major with a minor in Calligraphy, of all things. She wasn't quite sure what she'd do at the end of her studies, but she wasn't overly worried. Her teachers had suggested she'd make a great researcher with her knowledge of myths and legends. And she wasn't a half bad calligrapher either. One of her own teachers had been so impressed, they'd actually mounted one of her pieces and hung it in their own office.

It had been a wonderful time. The smiles that seemed so disingenuous became real, and for awhile everyone, Kagome included, had breathed a sigh of relief.

Things had seemed to finally click into place.

But... there was always a but – yes, things had seemed to right themselves for Higurashi Kagome, except that ever since she'd come back from the feudal era, she hadn't felt all that well. She was often nauseous and dizzy. Sometimes she'd have a bit of a fever, sometimes not. She went to the bathroom quite a bit more often and her pants were fitting tight. Eri, that fair-weather friend of hers, had suggested that perhaps she had a yeast infection or something of the like. Ayumi suggested a rather persistent strain of the flu, and her mother had a suggestion, but she didn't dare voice it out loud. As it turned out, her mother's suggestion came closest to the truth, because when Kagome had finally, and begrudgingly, gone to the doctor, she had found out she was pregnant. Three months pregnant by the doctor's estimation.

The past, it seemed, had come back to bite her on the ass.

Upset wouldn't be the word for what she felt at the time. In those first few moments, when the doctor had told her about her little bundle of joy, she had been utterly devastated. Devastation gave way to mortification when the doctor asked about the father, because she hadn't acted much like the typically happy expectant mother. She saw the look in his eyes – a look she'd seen more than once, each and every time she told someone that her daughter's father wasn't dead and they weren't divorced. He wasn't even in the picture.

God, when she had come home from the doctor's office, she'd been so afraid. She'd broken down in tears and had barely been able to even get the words out – being so afraid of what her mother might say, what she'd think of her, but her mother had just held her tightly and told her everything would be all right.

Even so, being a single mother in Japan was no easy task. Though they were one of the wealthiest, most modern countries in the world, there were still some things her people were awfully old fashioned about. To have a child out of wedlock, it was considered a disgrace. There was very little in the way of government assistance. Not to mention the fact that her child was listed simply as 'girl' on her birth certificate, rather than 'the first daughter' as it should have been. She knew it wasn't a big thing, but it rankled her.

Adding to that, were people's reactions, especially those of the older generation. They'd pat her stomach and tell her how proud her husband would be, and, at first, she'd just lie and say he was really excited. But after awhile she got tired of lying and told them straight up that she didn't have a husband. The way they'd blanch and slink away from her made her even angrier. And when her 'friends' had found out, well, that was a laugh. Eri and Yuka had treated her like she had the plague. They both offered tentative congratulations, and then never called her again.

As for Ayumi... well, her daughter simply wouldn't be here without her.

She'd shown up to the shrine seconds after hanging up after she'd been given the good news. Hell, she was there and supporting Kagome through the whole pregnancy, but that wasn't why she'd be forever grateful to Ayumi.

The first month and half she was pregnant had been the worst. She was so pent up about the whole child out of wedlock thing and the fact that her baby would be hanyou, that she spent most of her time in bed, and when she wasn't in bed, she was just plain moping. More than just that. She'd remembered what Sango and Miroku had said so long ago – about kindoku and the curse associated with it. And Kagome had come to a terrible realization that she might leave this child motherless as well as fatherless.

It had been one of those days, when Kagome had been worrying about things – staring at her navel, she was asking herself the essential but, at this stage of the game, mostly pointless questions: What would happen after the child came? How would she hide the fact that her child would be hanyou? There was no way to hide those puppy ears! And so on and so on...

She'd been doing this for so long, she hadn't really eaten. She hadn't really slept. And she'd lost weight instead of gaining it, a bad sign so early in her pregnancy. There was nothing her mother could do or say that made her feel better, and she feared that her daughter might well lose the baby if it kept up.

This was until Ayumi had turned up, out of the blue, dragging her boyfriend along with her. She had confronted Kagome. Told her that she knew all about her situation, knew that her child was a hanyou, and that she knew who the father was – she also knew that Kagome had never really been sick all those years in high school. AND, she also knew something about a curse. Kagome had asked how she'd known, and Ayumi had turned and pointed behind her.

"I knew because _he_ told me, instead of you," she sniffed in an obviously offended yet oddly understanding tone.

Looking behind her friend, all she saw was a pleasant looking young man who looked to be foreign, perhaps he was from Ireland or Sweden, but where-ever he was from, she'd never seen him before in her life. How the hell would he know anything about anything?

And then he stepped forward and asked quietly: "Kagome, you don't remember me?"

Before she could even answer the glamour cast over his features faded abruptly in a violent swirl of light and wind, and the pleasant young foreigner who was a stranger morphed into the familiar face of an old friend. "Shippou..." she whispered his name hoarsely before bursting into tears.

From then on, what had seemed a horrible occurrence, a thing to be dreaded, became amongst the most joyous, happy memories she had. Between her family and her friends, they'd all helped her through it in one way or another.

In Shippou's case, specifically, he'd introduced her to an OBGYN that dealt with hanyou births. There was something of a "demon underground" to deal with such things, as hanyou were far more common in the modern age than they had been back in the feudal era. Not only that, but he was a link to the things in the past she didn't mind so much remembering. He'd given her a kind of closure. Sure, it was sad to learn the fate of her friends, but she'd always known that they'd had to have died sometime. The most unpleasant surprise was finding out that Inuyasha had passed away nearly sixty years ago. Shippou had told her he had wanted to see her again, even in his last moments of life, but his body had just been too tired. Apparently, five hundred years was a long time, even for a hanyou. He'd given the beads of subjugation to Shippou to give to her and a message.

"Be happy."

It was simple and to the point, and so very Inuyasha.

In Ayumi's case, she'd done some research, with the help of her boyfriend, on the Kindoku Curse. And she reassured Kagome that she wouldn't be dying any time soon because the "curse" wasn't a curse at all. Kindoku was nothing more than a particularly powerful aphrodisiac.

Her worry seemed so laughable after that.

Even so, there were still lots of other things for her to be concerned about. Money being one of them, her family wasn't exactly wealthy, and babies were expensive. Kagome had to think about health insurance, baby clothes, toys, diapers, and all the other sundries a child might need. She had suggested working while pregnant, but her mother and Ayumi would hear nothing of it. Her mum went back to work as a nurse. Ayumi did her best by helping out at the shrine, often dragging Shippou along for the ride. Grandpa "helped" by making utterly disgusting infusions that were supposed to help with easing the birth or other such nonsense. Kagome did her best to choke his remedies down without throwing up. Even Souta got into the act, finding a job with the local green-grocer as a bag boy for extra cash and the discount on groceries.

All of it was _very_ flattering and made Kagome feel _very_ loved but also intensely useless. Initially, she put up strong protests but as she progressed in her pregnancy those protests died down.

According to her new OBGYN, her pregnancy was to last far longer than the normal nine months. Being that her child was half demon, she could expect to carry for at least twelve months, if not longer. The long gestation period was often quite hard on the child's human mother, so it was very unlikely that Kagome would be having her baby naturally. The doctor guessed that she had conceived the child sometime in early autumn last year, most likely around September or October; this meant that they'd have to schedule a Cesarean for the middle of autumn of the current year. In the end, she'd agreed to a "birth" date of October 23. The prospect of being pregnant for a whole year and at the end of it having a possibly dangerous surgery to give birth to her child brought her no joy. Plus, it was just weird knowing when she'd be giving birth beforehand.

But it all melted away when the time actually came and her daughter was in her arms. Her little girl was perfect – so very perfect and not at all what she'd expected. At birth, the little girl had dark hair and deep blue eyes so typical of newborn humans, and the only thing that had marked her heritage at the time was the curly, fluffy tail. Kagome had thought briefly of keeping it, but eventually had it removed when her daughter was six months old. The tail, though cute, made changing diapers less of a duty and more of a debacle of epic proportions and it pained her daughter when she slept. There was really no other choice, it had to go...

At first, it had been a bit of a hardship, leaving behind the only thing that marked who and what she really was. Despite how Kagome felt about her father, she thought it was a point of pride that her daughter was hanyou and to have her look full human, it seemed not right somehow. It was an unfounded worry, because as the girl aged her dark hair grew in silver and her dark blue eyes turned bright gold, and by the time she was a year and a half old there was no mistaking who her father was.

In any event, after she was born, Kagome had to decide what she would do next. She couldn't continue to depend on everyone else like she had when she was pregnant. Kagome needed a job and she needed one fast. She couldn't go back to school, she'd been kicked out for violating the university's honor code, and stuff like that tended to follow you like a plague. So her options were rather limited.

For a time, she worked as an office lady. It was hard, because she had to hide the fact that she already had a child and no husband. It wasn't _that_ big a deal, after all, she was used to hiding things from people. The only caveat was that one of the salarymen in the office had the hots for her, and wouldn't leave her alone. She'd taken to calling him Kouga in her head, because he was just as obstinately stupid. It didn't help that he was young and sort of handsome, and all of the other OLs in the office had huge crushes on him. Meaning that they essentially hated Kagome, not only because he seemed obsessed with her but she kept turning him down. All in all, it made coming to work very hard most days. The only upside was that she made a lot of money very quickly. And for awhile, it was fine, though everyone else seemed to disagree with her, feeling that she was wasting her talents. Shippou had been the most vocal about this and argued with her all the time. With very little deviation, the script for this argument went a bit like this:

"You're a great priestess, Kagome. Greater than even Midoriko!"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he'd insist.

Then she'd hold up the Shikon no Tama. "No, I'm really not. She created this and I couldn't get rid of it."

"Phhhhhffft. So it isn't all the way gone! The thing barely has any power left," he'd retorted, gesturing dismissively. "And if you'd help me research those scrolls I keep telling you about, we'd find something in there that'd destroy the Shikon for good."

"Research isn't going to destroy the Shikon no Tama. The right wish _should_ have. I thought I made it, but I was wrong and that's the end of it."

And so on and so on, until she got angry enough to storm from the room. This didn't deter Shippou, who could now give Inuyasha lessons in sheer stubbornness. He kept talking about those scrolls and about his shop full of rare, demonic antiquities and how much good she could do if she worked for him. Additionally, he knew loads of people who could use her experience as a demon slayer, of sorts. To which she'd point out that her days of slaying demons were well behind her and she had NO intention of reliving the past.

It wasn't until when her daughter, who had just turned two, had gotten so dreadfully sick that she finally acquiesced. It had started out as a minor cold, which progressed into an infection that had spread to a lymph node in her neck, which had become badly inflamed – swelling to the size of a golf ball. Antibiotics didn't really work, because they had to be careful which one they used. Her daughter was known to be allergic to most penicillin based treatments so they had to find alternate medicines that'd do the same job. Even so, they had to be careful, giving her smaller doses than normal because too much could kill her. And when none of this worked, the poor girl had been hospitalized to have the node lanced and drained, and the expense... well, it was beyond her means to pay it.

Shippou had taken this opportunity and swooped in with a solution. He had a rich client with a sword he'd bought from a youkai merchant. Turned out, the sword was cursed and needed to be exorcised. Trouble was, well, there were no real priests or priestesses who had the kind of power it would take to expel the spirit. So, he came to Shippou's shop, knowing through rumor that he was a specialist with things like this. Shippou had happily mentioned that he might know someone he could help, if only she could be convinced. His client was quite eager to shower out an obscene amount of cash to get the job done (it was, in fact, more than enough money to pay the hospital bills.)

It didn't take her long to decide to take the job. She exorcised the spirit with Shippou and Ayumi's help, split the money equally and had left it at that, until she found out that Shippou had lined up an impressive list of very rich clients interested in her services. It was a damn dirty kitsune trick, and one that she was eternally grateful for. All of those people who she had helped became Higurashi Shrine's patrons. More importantly, they spread the word about her and finally gave her family shrine something it could be noted for. It was the only shrine with a _real_ practicing exorcist/demon slayer.

Her services were so in demand that she had to begin limiting her clientele. You could only secure Higurashi Kagome's services if you were referred to her, either by Shippou himself or one of her more trusted regular patrons. Money never mattered to her. Only two things did – One: she helped those who were most in need, always, and even if they had nothing to pay her with. Two: If the Shikon jewel was ever mentioned, because the only people interested weren't really_ people_ at all. They were demons... who were about to be quite dead, though they didn't know that yet.

This had been her life for the past four years. It was a good life. It was stable – it was the kind of life that was perfect for raising a healthy, happy little girl. And when she looked at her daughter, despite looking so much like her father, Kagome could do nothing but smile.

She was currently twenty steps in front of her, two large bags of groceries held in her hands. Kagome, on instinct, wanted to run up there and take them from her. The bags looked overloaded and too heavy for a five year old to be carrying. But she resisted the urge. Her daughter was hanyou, and was stronger than she'd like to admit. In a flash, the young girl was already up the stairs, while Kagome was still trudging up at a snail's pace, seemingly. She was five steps from the top when her daughter intercepted her. Jumping from one foot to the other, she grabbed her mother's hand, tugging a bit harder than she intended to, causing her mum to stumble.

Giving a weak smile, she pulled back and quickly apologized before launching words at her mother at a hundred miles a minute.

"OMIGODMOMYOUJUSTWON'TBELIEVEWHATSHIPPOUANDAYUMIAREDOINGIT'SJUSTTHEMOSTAWESOMETHING EVERYOUHAVETOSEEIT..."

And so on and so on, until her mother interrupted her.

"Slow down, sweetie. Mommy can't understand a word you're saying."

"Mom, Shippou and Ayumi are making neat circles on the ground! Just like those lines in Peru Uncle Souta told me about... the N-n-nausica... N-nasc.. the Nasa lines!"

"You mean the Nazca Lines," Kagome corrected.

"Yeah, those. You gotta see 'em!"

Kagome picked up the sacks her daughter had dropped in her excitement. Sure enough, once she reached the shrine, she could see Ayumi and Shippou drawing large circular shapes on the ground with containers of colored sand. She groaned. This wasn't good, she just_ knew_ it. Her mother, who had been just behind them, walked up to her, looking over her shoulder at the strange work going on.

"What's all this about?"

"I don't know. I don't really _want_ to know..." she murmured. But she had to. Holding out her bags, she motioned to them. "Could you take this stuff inside, Mom? I've got to sort this out."

Once she'd been relieved of her grocery bags, she strolled over to Ayumi and Shippou, who were so busy drawing whatever it was they were making that they didn't notice her presence. They did notice her daughter, who was playing a game of her own making that involved jumping from line to line, scattering colored sand everywhere.

Calling out to her daughter, she instructed the girl to move away from the drawing. After all, she didn't really know what it did. Her daughter seemed disappointed at being sent away, but it was for her own good. And as she watched her retreating back, Kagome was trying hard no to be mad. Really, there had to be a perfectly logical explanation for all this.

Ayumi was the first to approach. She had a large smile on her face and dirt streaks on her cheek. "You like it?" she asked, spreading an arm backwards to indicate the concentric sand circles currently decorating the shrine grounds.

Kagome crossed her arms and looked at her blandly. "What is it?"

"Fionn's Wheel!" she exclaimed, gesturing animatedly with her hands; not noticing how Shippou surreptitiously slunk away as he understood, _keenly_, the amount of trouble they were in. "It's a sort of divinatory device used by ancient druids as a way to focus power. See, I found this ancient Roman binding spell that I wanted to use, you know for that Saito guy... demon... whatever he is. But I was thinking that it might not be powerful enough. From what Shippou told me, this guy has to pack a serious whallop. And the Sator Rotas square spell is really for protection and the binding of one's enemies. It's sort of a mid-grade paralyzing spell, so I figured there had to be some way to augment it and BAM! Fionn's Wheel or Ogham's Window, depending on who you're talking to... but I suppose that doesn't matter. Anyway..."

Kagome held up a hand. "Okay, either that made no sense or I'm crazy. Right now, I'm going with the whole not making sense thing. Just tell me, _in small words_, what in the world this _thing_ is."

"I already told you, it's Fionn's Window... see it's a Celtic thing and it amplifies your power and stuff and..."

"And what's it doing on my shrine?"

"Well, I thought about doing it closer to the house, because it'd be easier to lure him into it. What with you having dinner with him and all, but Shippou thought it'd be a bad idea..."

"It's a bad idea _here_! How... why... I mean, we have perfectly good exorcism scrolls for this kind of thing. We have loads of sacred sake that I made_ myself_. A whole library full of spells collected over the years by my ancestors... and you pick this? Some crazy Druid thing with a Roman... thing?" Kagome massaged her forehead, hoping rub away her confusion. "What have you been watching lately? Is it Hagaren again? Because I swear, if I have to clean up any more transmutation circles, or whatever the hell they are, I'm gonna..."

"No, it's not!" Ayumi challenged defensively.

"Ah, the X-files, then?"

"No."

Kagome wracked her mind, trying to think of every series where Western magic was used. "Kay... Buffy or Witch Hunter Robin?"

"Witch Hunter Robin," Ayumi muttered piteously. "It'll work, this time. I_ swear_ it will. Souta and I tried out a small one with Shippou. It kept him paralyzed for nearly an hour... think of what this one could do! I mean, it'd paralyze him completely and make it loads easier for you to put the whammy on him... permanently!"

"Oh, I don't know..."

"But -- but it works! _Seriously!_" Ayumi whinged, putting extra emphasis on 'seriously' as if that one word was all that was needed to convince anyone of anything.

"Yeah, well, I just don't like the idea of using some spell concocted mainly from something you saw in a television show..." And Kagome was preparing to make further argument when she was roughly grabbed from behind and given an unnecessary amount of noogies directly to the top of her head.

"Aw, c'mon sis, it's a good idea," Souta joked jovially, turning to Ayumi with a pleasant smile as he let go of his struggling sister. "So, I take it she didn't like it."

"No, not so much."

"No, I didn't like it so much," she agreed acidly, smoothing out her hair as she glared at her brother. "Souta, how many times have I told you not to do stuff like this?! Demon slaying is..."

"A dangerous business, yada, yada, yada. I know, I know," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not a kid anymore, Sis. This is a good idea..."

"And I'm going to take your word for it? Are we forgetting who the _experienced_ demon slayer is here? That would be me – ten years and running – and I think, _maybe_, people should listen to what—"

"Except for when you're wrong, which you are now. Anyway, it wasn't Ayumi who thought of it – and by the way, 'Yumi, I wouldn't take that kind of abuse from someone who still listens to Morning Musume – it was Shippou's plan."

"Buh... wuh... My musical tastes have nothing to do with—" Kagome shouted, emphatically pointing a finger at him. Then something in her brain clicked into place. "_W-a-a-a-a-ait_ a minute, Shippou? _Shippou_ thought of this?"

"Yup."

"I'm sorry Ayumi, I'm going to have to murder your boyfriend now," she intoned coolly. And with that, she turned and went after the sneaky little fox demon who thought he could avoid her wrath.

As it turned out, she didn't murder Shippou, but she did give him a dressing down he'd never forget. Once she was calmed down – meaning they fed her, because a hungry Kagome was an angry Kagome – they were able to talk a bit more rationally. Sure, she was irritated they wouldn't let the "Fionn's Wheel" idea go but she listened anyway (mostly because they just wouldn't shut up) and after an eternity of badgering, she agreed to reserve judgment until _after_ a demonstration.

All in all, it seemed pretty simple – the spell was a bit explosive for her tastes, and she could see why it wouldn't be wise to have the large scale version near the house. Still, it worked and worked well, so she decided to give it a chance. They spent the next hour practicing more small scale run-throughs with her, before everyone retired to their various homes for the night.

Breakfast was a large and rowdy affair at the Higurashi household, despite the fact that it everyone was up at a rather ungodly hour. This particular morning, found the youngest Higurashi, but by far the tallest, sitting in the family room and watching a DVD of_ PythagoraSwitch_ with his niece, who sat next to him with her legs crossed, head bopping in time as she quietly mimed the Algorithm March.

The little girl paused in her bopping momentarily, lifting her nose into the air and discreetly sniffing. She turned around and beamed brightly, launching herself at her mother so hard that she literally knocked her over. After she recovered herself, Kagome listened to her overexcited daughter joyfully recount her morning, most of it revolving around how much her beloved Uncle Souta spoiled her. He had bought her a deluxe sticker and stamp set. She just knew she'd be spending the next few months washing stamps from the walls and pulling stickers off every available surface.

Her daughter happily handed her something. Kagome felt a wave of useless aggravation; her cell phone was already encrusted with a thick layer of revoltingly pink stickers that sparkled in the palm of her hand. And there was very little she could do about it, other than smile tersely, thank her daughter and glare over her head at her obviously amused younger brother.

And when the little girl turned away, attention caught by the smells of breakfast as it was laid on the table, Kagome took that moment to mouth a message to her brother silently: "You're dead." Souta laughed uneasily, taking a sudden interest in the food just set in front of him.

Her mother had prepared Belgian waffles topped with powdered sugar and a variety of fruits. It was a bit of a trial to prepare, but it was her granddaughter's favorite. Everyone dug in happily, and soon the room was filled with soft, contented grunts of enjoyment and the occasional bit of groggy conversation.

Eventually, Kagome, her daughter and mother left everyone else behind to their post-breakfast bliss, while they went upstairs to prepare for the day. It was March 3, Hina-Matsuri, and her daughter had been afforded a great honor. She had been invited, rather at the last minute, to assist the shrine priestesses at Awashima Shrine with the hina-nagashi, a local tradition during Hina-Matsuri which involved filling several ceremonial boats full of dolls and setting them into the ocean.

Truth be told, Kagome had to pull a bunch of strings to get her daughter in. Luckily, she'd helped the head priest over at Awashima; exorcising a possessed doll that someone had left in one of their donation bins. She hadn't really asked for any payment, so he pretty much owed her one.

The trip to the shrine would be rather long as Awashima was located in Wakayama Prefecture. It wasn't an ideal situation, but... well, anyway, it'd get her daughter and her family out of the shrine for a day and a night. If this plan was to go right, she had to know they were safe, otherwise fighting would be way too hard. It didn't help that her daughter would be difficult about it. She loved Girl's Day, and would fight not spending it with her mum. Not only that, but this would mark the first time her daughter had ever spent the night without her mother.

It would, no doubt, be hard on both of them, but it had to be done.

At the moment, the little girl was mostly content, though a little fidgety. She had inherited her mother's natural energy and was unable to sit still for a long time, which made stuffing her into a formal kimono a bit of a trial. Kagome and her mother were making the best of it (i.e. Kagome was trying hard to distract her while her mother put the kimono on), so while her mother tugged and pulled and tied things to other things, Kagome was playing the part of the emperor in her daughter's self-directed little play – which she thought might be her take on the legend of Issun-boshi, but she wasn't entirely sure. Her daughter had a wild imagination (another lucky inheritance from her mother).

They had gotten the little girl a cheap set of Hello Kitty themed Girl's Day dolls, because she had a tendency to play with the very expensive ones that'd been handed down for four generations. It had survived the war and so many other tumultuous times, and Kagome thought it'd be a pity if it couldn't outlive her rambunctious daughter. She and her mother had hoped buying ones she could play with would deter her. For the most part, it did, though Kagome would occasionally notice her daughter's longing looks when she passed by the small platform in the sitting room.

She smiled fondly even as her daughter corrected her for not doing the voices right while her mother secured the final touch, tying the obi-jime so that it was centered properly. They then fussed with her hair and the little girl couldn't help but complain a bit, before going back to whatever new little imaginary game she was inventing with her dolls. Once they finished, they softly closed the door and let the little girl assess herself. Tears came to her eyes as Kagome watched her daughter touching her hair carefully. She looked up at her mother and smiled.

"I look pretty, Mama."

"Yes, you do, sweetie."

Mother, daughter and grandmother stole a secret moment together as the pale morning light filtered in slowly from the window. Assured of their success, they paraded her downstairs and her appearance was greeted with several appreciative 'oohs' and 'aahs' – along with a trademarked Ayumi squeal which was shortly followed by her exclaiming: "SHE LOOKS SO CUTE!"

About a thousand pictures were taken, most of them in front of the God Tree. It had been a mild winter and an even milder spring. The air was crisp but gentle. Above them, the Goshinboku shook happily in the breeze, its iron branches full of bursting leaf buds. Kagome eyed it serenely, thinking to herself that it was going to be a beautiful summer, if one were to judge by leaf buds alone.

The camera's bulb flashed one last time. Everyone began to prepare for imminent departure. The hina-nagashi began precisely at eleven o'clock and the ride down to Wakayama would take at least two and a half hours by Shinkansen. They'd have to leave now if they hoped to make it on time. Kagome felt a familiar tug on the leg of her jeans. She looked down and smiled, trying to hide the sadness in her eyes. Her daughter looked up at her, not hiding hers at all.

"Mama, are you _sure_ you can't come?"

Kagome sighed, she had explained this so many times to her – the inability to take an answer at face value was an interesting trait that almost all five year olds possessed, but it didn't make answering 'why' for the thousandth time any easier. "No, Sweetie, I can't. We already talked about this, remember?"

"I know," she grumbled, pouting and toying with the tasseled fan that matched her kimono. "But I _want _you to come. Can't you just ask Saito-san to come with us?"

"'Fraid not. Saito-sensei is a very busy man and he doesn't have the time to travel all the way to Wakayama just for me." Kagome could feel the beginnings of a tantrum. One she intended to stop by changing the subject. "You like Saito-sensei a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah," the little girl answered in a small voice.

"Well, he does seem like a nice man," Kagome commented, putting an unnatural emphasis on the word 'seem'.

"He _is_ a nice man, Mama!"

"Oh, I see," she teased, giving her daughter a little tickle under the chin. "And how do you know that?"

"I can just tell!"

"Really?"

"_Really_, really! I already_ told_ you he smelled like _home_!" the little girl cried insistently.

Kagome half laughed, half sighed. Ever since Shippou had told her about scent memory, specifically as it related to youkai and their offspring, she'd been pulling that trick out of her hat. Every single male acquaintance or even strangers they passed on the street suddenly smelt like home – which was Shippou's euphemism for the smell he associated with his mother and father. She could kill the fox for using that metaphor. Sighing deeply, she pointed out that every man, everywhere smelt like home.

To which her daughter promptly replied with: "Nuh-uh!" The little girl huffed as her mother raised her eyebrows at her dubiously. "'Sides, there's more than just _that_. The air around him is different."

Well, _that _was interesting. "What do you mean by that, sweetie?"

Her daughter fumbled with an explanation for a second or two before landing on something that seemed right. "Everything around him sort of goes like this..." And she wiggled her fingers while making a strange kind of humming sound. Then she stopped abruptly and gave a little frustrated sigh; something about it didn't entirely satisfy her.

"Is it like a vibration?" Kagome suggested helpfully.

"No, more like... more like something around him is singing all the time. Singing just like daddy's sword sings or Uncle Shippou – he sings too. You and Uncle Souta sometimes sing, but not as loud. Saito-san was very, very loud."

She was talking about auras – she could feel Saito's youki but she just didn't know how to describe it yet. Her training hadn't progressed that far. "I see. And because he's so loud, you like him."

"Mmm-hmm. His song is real pretty, too. Mommy, do you think that maybe after you and Saito-san are done with business, that he could visit me sometime?"

"Oh, I don't know, sweetheart." Kagome's heart broke at her daughter's crestfallen look. Cursing her weak heart, she lied. "But I suppose I could ask him." The little girl's face brightened. "I can't make any promises, though. Okay?"

"Okay," her daughter happily agreed.

Kagome stiffened when she felt Shippou's hand lightly touch her shoulder. "It's time," he whispered quietly, giving her a bit of a squeeze before backing away.

The little girl looked from her uncle to her mother, tears in her eyes. "Mama, I don't wanna go."

Heaving in a sigh, Kagome steeled herself. "I know, sweetie. But that doesn't change anything..."

"But... but I don't want to go without you!" she whined, her lower lip now trembling as she burst into tears.

She wanted to breakdown and cry with her daughter right then and there. Instead, she took another deep breath and forged forward, drawing her daughter into a gentle embrace.

"It is what it is, sweetheart. I can't come and you have to go," she explained, smoothing her daughter's hair as she rocked the little girl softly until the sobs died down. Gently cradling her daughter's face in her hands, she wiped away the tears and whispered words meant just for her. "You're gonna have a great time with Uncle Shippou and everyone else and you'll be back sooner than you think. So no more tears, okay?"

"Yeah," Shippou agreed, having hunkered down silently moments earlier, "we're gonna eat sakura mochi and all sorts of other sweets – plus the hotel we're staying at has a pool."

This was enough to perk her up a little bit. She gave her uncle a hesitant smile which disappeared as suddenly as it came when she turned back to her mother and wrapped her tiny arms around her neck. "I'm going to miss you, Mama."

Kagome caught the sob that almost forced its way out of her throat. "I'm going to miss you too, sweetie."

And she had to watch stoically as her daughter was lead off the shrine, towards the waiting cab that'd take them to the train station. Her throat tightened when her daughter turned back to give her a small wave before descending the stairs. Once the little girl was out of sight, she allowed herself to cry, leaning on her younger brother's shoulder for support until it passed. And pass it did. Wordlessly, the siblings separated to begin preparing the spell so it'd be ready for that evening. It took most of the afternoon to finish.

Carefully pouring the last bit of sacred sand into place, they waited as the magic sunk in and the Fionn's Wheel they so carefully constructed disappeared into the ground just as it was designed to.

"Well, that's that," she said, feeling a bit satisfied with her work as she clapped away the dust on her hands.

Souta grunted, dusting himself off vigorously. "I'm going to be cleaning sand out of every crevice for the next month, I just know it. Have you noticed all the spells Ayumi designs are invariably dirty and labor intensive?"

She cast her brother a side-long glance. "Whiner."

He gave her a dirty look and she laughed. They gently teased each other as they cleaned up, walking over to the shrine's main office to put away all the implements used to cast the spell. "So, d'ya think it'll work?"

The question came out of the blue, and it made Kagome more nervous than she'd like to admit. "Uh, it better." She paused for a beat. "Having seconds thoughts?"

"Yeah, well, it's just... if this demon is as powerful as you say... I've been thinking about it and, well, it might not work."

"Bit late to bring that up, don't you think?"

"Well, yeah, but... I was just thinking maybe I should stay. You know, just in case you need backup or something."

"Souta, are you worried about me?" Kagome sing-songed, ruffling her brother's hair affectionately.

"Well, yeah!" he stammered, flushing. "You're the only sister I have!"

"And you're the only brother I have and you haven't been doing this as long as I have..." He gave her a dark look that stated exactly how little that meant to him. "It's too dangerous, and I don't want you getting hurt."

"You act like I'm some stupid kid, Kagome. I've helped you out before..."

"But this isn't the same."

"Isn't it? It's just another demon extermination, I don't see why you're always so stubborn about this whole Shikon business."

"The Shikon is my duty – mine _alone_. And I refuse to lose anyone else to it."

"That's crap."

"That may be. But you're leaving before Saito comes, one way or the other."

Souta sighed, relenting as he met the immoveable gaze of his sister. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, if the spell doesn't work, I'll just kill him the old fashioned way."

"Your confidence is kinda scary, Kagome," he commented, taking in her determined stance. She was several inches shorter than him now. Had been for some time, yet she still seemed to loom large in his vision. Her strength would always astound him, and for not for the first time, he wondered where she got it from. "Well then, I'm going to take off." He stepped over and gave her a hug, which she returned. "Be careful, okay?" She nodded patronizingly. "I'm keeping my phone on tonight. If anything –_anything _– goes wrong, don't hesitate to call, okay?"

"Will do."

"I mean it, Kagome. If things get out of hand, you call me."

"I promise, Souta. I'll call you if something goes hideously awry. Now go."

In the end, she practically had to push him out the door, leaving her little over an hour to prepare herself for dinner and a demon slaying.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES **

HOLY CRAP! Filler chapter. But it's still an update. It is for making happiness. Once again, I thank you all for being so patient with me. It's been a long journey and I'm glad you all came along with me! It's almost over... seriously. Anyway...

A few notes on this chapter. Hagaren is sort of short-hand for _Hagane no Renkinjutsushi -- _better known here in the US as Fullmetal Alchemist. I thought it was a cute nod to another popular Japanese television series. Pythagoraswitch is another popular Japanese television show. Mostly known through various Youtube clips of the various Rube Goldbergian devices used on the show as well as the rather famous Algorithm March. (It really is that awesome.) The bits about Office Ladies and Salarymen I did some pretty exhaustive research on. I also did quite a bit of research into single mothers in Japan -- the stuff about being listed simply as 'Girl' on the birth certificate is quite correct. Sad, really. All the stuff about Hina-Matsuri are also correct -- as far as the research I did was concerned. The Awashima Shrine really does exist! (And frankly, I think it'd be a little creepy to visit. What with all the dolls all over the shrine and stuff.)

Also, I inserted a bit of real world experience in there. When my sister was two, she actually had an infection in her lymph node, and it did swell to the size of a golf ball. It was disgusting. And the doctor had planned to hospitalize her to lance it. Fortunately for my sister, the damned thing popped before it came to that. Blech.

Anyway, till next time!


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